Clique Times Two
by cutiereader968
Summary: A byo Clique story, where the first four people to review are the main characters of a new Clique at OCD. We need new boys, enemies and most importantly, a new Clique. More info inside.
1. Info

Well, there's a new Clique in town; starring _you_! Yes, you!

Send me a review of your OC, or maybe even someone you just randomly want in this story. You could even describe yourself! I need four main girls to be _in _the Clique. Given, I'll make up a character too. But we also need the 'Olivia Ryans' the 'Derringtons' and even the 'Ninas' to make this story complete. The first four reviewers that send me info about their character will be the main four girls in this story.

But, I do need a rival clique, an older clique, the LBRs; even the boys that our girls just _have _to have crushes on. Because what's a clique without boys to crush on? So, other reviewers can send me those.

Anyway, fill out this application below to enter your girl in the Clique, I'll be filling it out for my character.

**Name: **Cecilia Hale

**Interests/ Extracurriculars: **Nothing sporty, getting sweaty is disgusting. Designing clothes and dancing pretty much take up her time. Likes to read occasionally.

**Hug/Smile/Snob: **Snob to anyone who isn't acceptable. Not much of a hugger, but will if her BFFs need comfort.

**Appearance: **Petite with bright green eyes unlike anyone else's. Her hair is golden brown, cut to her shoulders and is always glossy and curly. Her style is classy and chic, nothing too slutty or out-there.

**Personality: **Not too outspoken, but will speak her mind, always around friends; never alone, super-intelligent, loves to have the newest gossip on everyone in the school, but a peacemaker with her friends.

**Loyalty Level: **You don't tell my secrets, I don't tell yours.

**Known For:** Her ease with flirting with boys. And her eyes.

**Motto: **I'm Cecilia and I'm fabulous.

**Why should you be in The Clique: **Beautiful, great at knowing the latest gossip about everyone, and super-talented. Why _shouldn't _she be in The Clique?

**Other: **Obsessed with fashion, she can memorize anyone's closet in a heartbeat. Flirting with guys comes easily to her. Her dad is a famous business man, and her mom is an ex-model.

Time for _you _to be part of The Clique, leave your girl's info NOW!


	2. The Clique

**OMG guys! Here's the first chapter. I tried to make all the characters just like the descriptions. I know this chap was short, but they'll get longer. And sorry for the lack of action, I wanted to make sure I was portraying your girls right. **

**Read!**

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><p>Sutton Minchew was going to die. Of boredom. The mixture of aged coffee and rose-water perfume surrounded her in a haze, making her head spin. The nails-on-a-chalkboard voice of Mrs. Keegan echoed around her, not helping her pounding headache in the least. She had tried braiding her short, chestnut hair, but had ended up with a tangle in her perfect mane. She sniffed her wrist, hoping her fruity perfume would block out the horrid smell, but that failed too. She had even tried writing notes to the girl in front of her…who was a cuhm-plete LBR! But <em>nothing <em>could make her feel better!

She finally blew it when drama-club-addict—and resident LBR—Molly Theisen sneezed in her direction. _And didn't cover her mouth!_

"Mrs. Keegan," Sutton didn't bother raising her hand; that was for people who didn't always get what they wanted, "May I puh-lease go to the bathroom?"

Her teacher gave her the evil-eye, but agreed anyway. _Thank Gawd! _

Sutton's ah-dorable Miu Miu pumps clicked rhythmically against the tile in the hallway. She knew she looked ah-mazing in dark skinny jeans, a fitted blazer, and her new silver streak glinting in the sunlight. But then again, she always looked runway-ready, so why should she be surprised?

The alpha had always ruled OCD along with her BFFs: Cecilia Hale, her brainiac friend who was as beautiful as she was smart. Elle Thorn, the girl who every guy wanted for themselves. Cory Carmichael, who made being a tomboy look good. And Yumi Sazuki, the best gossip source _ever _to reside in OCD's halls.

Sutton snapped her fingers, remembering one of the reasons she left class in the first place, digging into her bag, she pulled out her new iPhone 4. Her manicured fingernails tapped the touch screen with surprising speed.

**Sutton: Girls, meet me inside the bathroom near the cafe in five. We need our daily touch-ups. xoxoxoxo**

She waited for the girls to reply, as they undoubtedly would.

**Elle: Good plan, my skirt needs some adjusting. **

Sutton giggle-rolled her violet eyes, by "adjusting" Elle basically meant hiking the skirt up until she looked flirt-worthy.

**Cecilia: Be there soon. Finishing test ;)**

**Cory: Thank Gawd, just got done with basketball scrimmage, I need to de-stink-ify myself!**

**Yumi: TONS of new gossip to tell you! I'm here already. **

The alpha's rosebud lips curled into a sincere smile that only her friends could produce. But her glossed pout fell right back down when she realized "bathroom breaks" didn't last forever, and she wasn't even to the bathroom yet. The click-clacking of her shoes picked up speed until she reached the faux-wooden door into the girl's lavatory. Taking a deep, cleansing breath in case someone happened to be in the bathroom already, she pulled the handle and swept into the room.

Yumi was already situated in the window seat, reading a text on her phone. The sunlight that streamed through the opening turned the beta's glossy black hair different shades of blue.

Wait, _what_?

"Ehmagawd, get out!" Sutton unintentionally barked at her friend.

Yumi let out a gasp and looked around until her dark brown eyes locked with Sutton's violet ones, "I thought you wanted me here?" she looked hurt.

Sutton rolled her eyes heavenward, "I do want you here. But, _I _should be the one feeling hurt, Yumi. _Someone _decided to get blue streaks in their hair and _nawt _inform me!" Sutton's hands rested on her thin hips, sending an accusing glare her friend's way.

Yumi giggled, as understanding washed over her face, "Sutton, you were just saying yesterday about how much streaks are _in_—"

"Hey, girls!" a cheerful voice sounded from a few feet away, Sutton turned quickly; ready to pounce if it was some random LBR who had the guts to talk to them.

Instead, her eyes landed on Cecilia and Elle. Both of them looked at her expectantly, "Where's Cory?" Cecilia's soft voice sent a soothing wave through the alpha. So what if Yumi had decided to get a streak—or three. Hadn't she just said it was because eye-catching streaks were toe-dally Sutton-approved?

"You know Cory, she's probably—" Sutton started.

"Hey, guys! Sorry for the delay, Mr. Kernes made us do extra stretches after the scrimmage." Cory Carmichael sauntered into their circle. Her heart-shaped face was a little shiny, matching the glow in her wide blue eyes. The tallest—and sportiest—member of their group was always running a little late for everything, but that was just one more thing to love about her.

Sutton shrugged her lean shoulders, "No problem. This meeting isn't _mandatory _or anything. I just thought we might need some energy to keep us walking until lunch." _And because I almost died of claustrophobia in my own Social Studies class. _

Yumi was practically jumping up and down in her seat, her second phone sat poised between her thumb and pointer finger; ready for the newest dish of OCD's gossip.

"Since Yumi is wiggling around in her seat like a puppy, let's start with her newest gossip." Sutton raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow in the direction of her friend, trying to hide a smile.

Yumi ran a hand through her short, dark hair, "Ehmagawd, okay! So, I was listening to Monica and her friends talking the other day—and they have something super-new and super-exclusive under their fashion-forward sleeves!"

All the girls tensed at the mention of the Glam Clan's leader: Monica. The tall, graceful eighth-grader who made girls twice her age quake in their heels. Even Sutton looked up to her—secretly, of course. Alphas don't admit to admiring anything but themselves.

"Well, what are they planning?" Elle bounced on her Tory Burch flats, looking anxious.

Yumi sent her a 'don't-interrupt-me-when-I'm-gossiping' look, "I don't know! _That's _the part I'm trying to figure out!"

Elle, Cecilia and Cory all let out soft gasps, but Sutton only rolled her eyes, "I'm sure they're just trying to psyche us out. Monica probably feels threatened that we're so ah-mazing, so she made sure you heard her fake-making plans for something." The alpha rolled her eyes in pity, "What an LBR."

"Wow, how desperate _is _she?" Cory opened her gym bag and pulled out a glass bottle of concealer, leaning over the porcelain sink to dab some on her sweaty face.

Cecilia joined her, whipping out a tube of mascara and brushing it against her lashes, "We are pretty hawt. Why _shouldn't _she be afraid?"

The girls all giggled, remembering why they were the top clique at OCD; and why they were all besties.

"Ugh," Sutton looked at the clock and immediately headed for the door, "Our bathroom break is up, girls! Time to get back to class." Nawt that Sutton actually cared about being there on time, but ever since her mom and dad took her Visa away for getting an F, Sutton made a tiny bit more effort to be studious.

The girls all blew air-kisses through their glossed lips and turned to go back to their classes, every pair of designer shoes echoing along the empty halls.

When Sutton made her way back to Mrs. Keegan's ah-noying Social Studies classroom, she felt refreshed and ready to take on the rose-water/stale coffee/old woman smell that wafted from the doorway. Her BFFs gave her that feeling all the time, and she mentally hugged them for being _such _good betas.

But in the back of her devious mind, one thing bothered the alpha: What if Yumi's story was cuhm-pletely, one hundred percent true?

That would mean she would have a really big, really stylish problem in her moisturized hands.

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><p><strong>There ya go! Again, the next chapter will be longer. Please, still leave a review of someone else you'd like in the story! <strong>

**READ & REVIEW :)**


	3. Boys are in Season

**There we go! The third chap is up! Sorry for anyone who submitted a character and they aren't in the story just yet. They will be coming up soon, trust me! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

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><p>"Ehma<em>Ew<em>!" Cory Carmichael yelled as she head-dived behind the counter, only letting her wide blue eyes peer over the granite tops, "_What _are you doing in here?"

Her older brother Aaron flipped his head around to look at her, "What does it look like?" at sixteen, Aaron stood a head taller than any of his classmates; with ah-dorable blonde hair and grey eyes. He was a total high-school hawtie.

Corey surveyed the kitchen; the whole west wall was covered in what looked like yellow goo. Both of her brothers were at the oven, setting the temperature. They both adorned huge pink baking gloves and aprons. Cory would have laughed if the whole room wasn't enclosed in _snot_.

"I have absolutely no idea what it looks like!" she pushed a hand through her soft, blonde curls and pinched the bridge of her nose; trying to stay calm. Normally, she would just laugh along with them—on a good day, she might even grab an apron and join in on the fun…but not today.

Cory's twin, Xavier, finally twisted in his sister's direction, "We're _trying _to make mashed potatoes! Dad called and said some new basketball player wants an interview on ESPN, so he'll be home late." One of Xavier's dark brown curls fell into his eyes and he pushed it away with his elbow.

"Oh," Cory sighed, a tired smile on her face. Her brothers had the opportunity to drive her crazy…but they also had the opportunity to make her day ten times better. They had, fortunately, chose to do the second.

Lately, Cory had felt a little tired—of everything. All the sports, while she loved playing them, made her perfect skin oily; producing a breeding ground for pimples and blackheads galore. School was fine, it was the homework that made her brain frazzle out and her eyes turn red in exhaustion.

The only thing that gave a spring to her step was her ah-mazing best friends…but even they had been unusually busy lately.

Elle's mom had hit an all-time high in her fashion-designing business, so Elle was always modeling new clothes for her mom's spring line. Cecilia was even busier trying to manage being student-council president, and finishing all her AP homework. Sutton was always trying to organize the latest social events—not to mention keeping up on her Clique's social standards—to even _think _about free time. And Yumi's constant dancing kept her constantly on her toes—get it?

No, Cory wasn't some slacker either, she was aiming to be on every team the school offered, but the sporty blonde wondered if her friends felt the same way she did—in need of bonding time.

"Sorry, guys!" she pulled her tote into her arms and hustled up the shiny, wood-paneled stairs, "You'll have to make dinner without my help tonight." Cory giggled, wondering what new mess they would make in the next hour.

Cory walked into her bedroom and plopped down on the bed, pulling the iMac up to her knees and flipping open the sleek white top. As she waited for the computer to reboot, Cory looked at herself in the full-length mirror from across the room. Her eyes were a bright sapphire that expressed what she was feeling at all times, while her childlike smile made everyone in the room feel better; she tugged at a piece of her naturally-highlighted, golden-blonde hair. Oh, Cory knew she was pretty, but she didn't think of herself as _gorgeous _like other people did; she found her demeanor to be too…innocent. But before she could figure out what that meant, she was snapped out of her thoughts when a soft _ping _emitted from her laptop.

It was an IM from Elle, asking if Cory had heard from Cecilia about their history project. Cory rolled her eyes at her careless friend and formulated a response, her Essie-painted nails gliding across the keys.

**ElleMagazine78: Just call me. **

**Sportsbabe101: Kay **

Cory picked up her flip phone and pressed speed dial number three, waiting for her friend to pick up. She waited five full rings before Elle finally picked up, "Hello?" Elle's high voice sounded surprised…but Elle was like that.

"Hey, Elle," Cory heard someone in the background; making an annoying rustling sound, "_What _is that disturbing sound?" she rubbed a hand against her suddenly-pounding temple.

"What? Oh, _that_," Elle paused, probably thinking of a way to make her story sound super-important, "My mom is designing a dress for her new line and she think I have the _perfect _body to model it for her clients! Ouch, Mom, lay off with the needle!"

Cory let out an amused sigh, "Is she getting aggressive again?" Elle's mother wasn't only known for her fashion-forward designs; she was also known for doing whatever it took to make them that way. Even if it meant stabbing her daughter repeatedly in the thigh with a needle.

She didn't get to hear her friend's answer, Xavier's voice broke the rare peace and quiet of the house, "Corrinda Carmichael, we need _help_!" he sounded frantic.

"Ehmagawd, is that your brother?" Elle cooed into the phone, followed by another 'ouch'.

"Yeah, it is…unfortunately." Cory peeked down the stairs and heard the wheeze of the oven, while her eyes landed on random puffs of smoke that curled and disappeared along the high ceilings. She realized that her brothers could burn the house down and tried to cut across Elle's ranting—with no such luck.

"He is just too hawt! I mean, I've seen him front far away, but he's just so…untouchable—"

"Elle, honey, I need to get off the phone! Call the rest of the girls and tell them we _need _our Saturday night sleepover moved up to Friday. We're too stressed to wait three more days!" she raced down the stairs and retched with her mouth buried in her arm when the stench of burning food entered her pert nose.

"Okay, sounds good—" Elle's voice was annoyingly slow and relaxed.

"ThankssomuchIloveyoubye!" Cory air-kissed into the phone and dug her nail into the end button, running to assess the damage her brothers had caused.

::

Yumi's dark hair swung around her as she pirouetted one last time and came to rest lightly on her flat-covered toes; she smiled her most winning smile as she lifted her arms gracefully above her head to check herself out from the side.

She heard clapping from across the studio and remembered she had an audience with her, "So," Yumi turned to Sutton and Cecilia, "How was it?"

"Ah-mazing!" Cecilia squealed right away, pressing her small hands against her glossed lips.

Sutton tapped a finger on her chin, looking around the room purposefully, "Well…" she waited for the dramatic effect and then continued slowly, "I thought it was—" with one last tap, she stood and held her arms open for Yumi to jump into, "Perfect!"

Yumi smiled brightly at Sutton's praise and rushed into her alpha's arms, breathing in her fresh scent; after a few seconds, she felt Cecilia wrap her arms around the two of them. When they pulled away, Sutton glared at the books fanned around the corner of Yumi's dance studio, her arms crossed in annoyance.

"Stupid homework." She sighed, fingering her silver streak; a habit she had when she was irritated.

Cecilia sat cross-legged on the polished wooden floors, her slouchy green cardigan brought out the brightness of her emerald irises, "I'll help you guys." Her voice was soft and gentle again.

Sutton had called all the girls earlier that day, asking if they wanted to have a study session—midterms were coming up, and even the most popular, high-bred OCD students can_nawt _afford to get an F—but only Cecilia and Yumi had come. Elle was busy with some new dress fitting and Cory had said something about a 'kitchen explosion'…whatever _that_ meant.

Yumi almost felt incomplete without Elle's random, hilarious comments and Cory's natural playfulness. They were _one _clique…being without two of their BFFs was like taking the Tic out of the Tac; the DK out of the NY, the Wo out of Man—it just wasn't right!

Sutton opened her large textbook to a random page and tried to read the words, but all she could make out were squiggly lines glaring back at her, "Ehmagawd, girls, I can't do this anymore!" she cried tragically.

"Do what?" both girls looked at her wide eyes.

"This _homework_! I need to have fun, I need to live!" the alpha couldn't take anymore of this boredom; her eyes were turning red and watery as she constantly stared at the tiny text in the books, and a small, tiny line had appeared on her forehead from squinting it in thought, "We're _nawt _the top clique at OCD for nuh-thing!"

Yumi played with her custom-made, Spandex leotard and Cecilia tugged her Ugg boots higher on her toned calves; both wore expressions of thoughtfulness.

"Well," Yumi sighed, a gleam in her dark eyes, "I _do_ need a break from all this stress. Ehmagawd, I thought of something ah-mazing to do!"

"And that would be?" Cecilia played with one of her curls.

"First we need to pick up Elle. No matter what she's doing. But Cory is going to be the top priority in this adventure." Her eyes were mischievous and her hands rolled together diabolically. At her BFFs puzzled glances, she let out a squeal, "We're about to flirt with the Briarwood boys!"

Sutton and Cecilia glanced slyly at each other; finally, things were about to get interesting.

::

Elle rolled her pale blue eyes to the window roof of Sutton's Hummer in another show of annoyance, "I _still _don't understand why you made me leave that dress fitting…I would have looked gorgeous in that fabric…"

Sutton knew her friend couldn't stay mad for long—especially if boys were involved, "Stop being a drama queen!" an odd thing for Sutton to say, because she was the queen of queens at being dramatic, "What would you say if I told you there were…boys involved?" she lowered her eyelid in a slow, vivid wink.

Elle ran a hand through the length of her strawberry blonde, shoulder-length hair, considering, "I wouldn't be mad anymore." She decided, whipping out a tube of lip gloss and applying it expertly to her full lips. "Just in case." She informed her friends, casually pulling her tank top down to expose just a _tad _more cleavage.

The three girls looked at each other and cracked up, thanking _Gawd_ that Elle could always a party-like feel to even the most tedious of situations.

Cory's sprawling, Southern-plantation-inspired estate came into view from the luxury vehicle. Cory's mother had died when Cory was only five; she didn't remember much about her mother, but Cory knew that the woman just _adored _green-grass covered, pillar-toting, Southern homes. Her father had finally—after years of working to have enough money to buy a home in just that description—made a break-through as the funny, animated sports newscaster on CNN. Mrs. Carmichael had died days after her father had signed the real estate papers.

But no one likes to think about sad things on _such _a perfect day.

After waiting for the Hummer to climb up the driveway, all four girls stepped out in their designer heels and air-kissed their driver for making a last-minute trip.

Sutton—ah-bviously—strode out first; her short hair glossy and still even with the wind whipping around it. Cecilia's bouncy curls and cozy outfit followed the alpha out. Next came Elle, her royal purple gauzy dress clashing fabulously and fearlessly against her hair, making her look like a goddess. Yumi's lithe body came up the rear, her dancer-toned limbs moving in her super-tight yoga pants with the grace only a person with her profession can pull off without looking too…LBRish.

Needless to say, they looked ah-mazing. And even _more _needless to say…Cory did nawt.

She was currently on her knees, trying to sop up soot off the kitchen floor with Mr. Clean polish. Her hair kept falling in her face, so she had to blow it away every two seconds; and she cursed her dad over and over again for letting their housekeeper, Sophia, have the next three days off.

The artificial sound of a crowd cheering erupted from the doorway, and all three siblings rolled their eyes. Their dad had programmed the stupid thing to make that noise every time someone was at the door because "We are a sports family! Cheering brings our mood up!" Her dad's words, _nawt _Cory's.

She stood and winced at the cramps in her lower back, making her way over to the huge bay windows by the front doors.

"Ehmagawd," she murmured, panicking. There were her best friends, each looking flawless and put-together, while she stood in ratty sweatpants and an oversized Briarwood soccer sweatshirt. She ran back into the kitchen, "Boys, I need your help!" she cried, feeling desperate, "Open the door and flirt with my friends. I need to change ay-sap!"

Xavier shrugged, his eyes turning sneaky, "That shouldn't be a problem!"

Aaron looked at Xavier with approval, "Yeah, for being younger…they're pretty cute." Both the boys made their way to the doors, looking like perfect tens! Cory giggled to herself, her friends would be proud.

Once she had scampered upstairs quickly, Cory flew to her closet and looked around frantically, "What to wear?" she tapped her chin slowly, talking to herself.

A black mesh miniskirt peeked from the back of her closet…now if only she had…Aha, her ah-dorable lacy DKNY tank top to tuck into it. The skirt stopped at the tops of her thighs—a little too high for her, but like they say: Desperate times, desperate measures—and did _very _good things to her rear end. The top was the _perfect _piece to complete the whole sporty/sexy/casual-while-still-classy idea. She gave herself a once-over before walking downstairs.

Long, lean legs? Present. Small, defined waist? There for sure. Windblown, natural hair? Duh. And—ah-dorable smile on her pretty face? Absolutely. She looked ready to impress her BFFs.

She walked downstairs slowly, letting her feet make her presence known. She made herself look blank and uninterested, her hair curling over one side of her cheek. Her hips swayed slowly with each step.

Sutton looked at Cory with approval; she toe-dally looked hawt. And her entrance was dramatic and elegant.

"Well, Cory, you took long enough!" she joked, pulling her tall friend in for a hug.

"Sorry," she gave Xavier and Aaron looks, but they were too busy checking out Elle's chest and Yumi's dance-toned butt to notice, "I didn't hear the doorbell right away."

"How could you _nawt_? You have your own personal football stadium in here!" Sutton giggle-slapped Cory on the shoulder. Everyone started cracking up, and Cory thanked her dad endlessly for having horrid taste in décor themes.

"So, uh, not to be rude, but…why are you here?" Cory bounced on the balls of her feet.

"Haven't you heard?" Cecilia looked at the girls slyly, "It's the middle of fall; and boys, like grapes, are toe-dally _in season_."

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><p><strong>Well, well, well, we might just be getting some Briarwood boy action in the next chapter ;) Review and let me know what you want to happen next with your character, and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE still keep making up new enemies, friends, even adults can be in here! I need and love your ideas!<strong>

**Click the review button, readers, you know you want to...**

**xoxo**


	4. Top and Bottom

**Whew, its done! Alright, sorry about the lack of boy action; I didn't want the story to move too fast. And I think I used everyone's characters so far, if I didn't, they will be coming soon.**

**Read and enjoy! **

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><p>"Okay, be honest…do I look like Frankenstein?" Elle turned around and faced her friends; pearl-colored eye shadow shimmered along her eyelids, making her light blue eyes pop.<p>

"Yeah, Elle, you look horrible." Sutton put her thumb up to let Elle know she was only joking; the flirt was an amazing best friend and beta…but she wasn't exactly the _sharpest _knife in the drawer.

"Good. You know I have to look ah-mazing when the guys come over!" Elle didn't even flinch at the dig, she was like that.

Cory sighed and stared at the back of Cecilia's head, which was right in front of her on the plush mattress. The girls were currently having a mini-fashion show in her room. They had convinced Xavier to invite his Briarwood friends over for a "man night" as he called it. Cory's friends were jittery with happiness at the thought of having Briarwood's cutest, richest and most talented boys all to themselves _for three hours! _

Uh, hello, who _wouldn't_?

"I wonder what they're like…" Cecilia—a hopeless romantic—flopped back into Cory's huge pile of pillows, her golden-brown hair fanning around her.

Sutton pulled a loose thread from Yumi's off-the-shoulder, Alice & Olivia sundress. The creaminess made her tanned skin glow. A light dusting of bronzer was placed carefully on her cheek; while smoky eye makeup added to the effect. Their goal was to clash with each other—to make each of their differences shine…and, so far, Yumi was the only one who looked boy-worthy.

Yeah, this was a casual get-together for Cory's brother and his friends…but when your own friends bring ah-dorable clothes and you haven't gotten a chance to bond in _much _too long, the only answer is to get all decked out for the boys. Come awn, what _else _would they do?

"I bet they're tens!" Elle flopped back on the bed, joining Cory and Cecilia.

"Girls," Sutton snapped her fingernails quickly, "Remember; _we _are here to show off for the guys. No day-dreaming, no admiring—on the outside, at least—and absolutely _no _nervousness!"

"Obv," Cecilia looked annoying that Sutton would even suggest something so…so, "Uh, Sutton, I'm nawt Whitney in case you didn't notice!"

All five girls gave each other a look and started to cackling, clutching their sides at the mention that one of _them _would be so juvenile as Whitney Purch, aka the easiest—and most desperate—girl at OCD.

Oh, at one time the girls might have liked Whitney; adored her even. She was once part of Monica's super-exclusive Glam Clan, the only acceptable eight-grade clique. Whitney was known for her obsession with boys—then it was cute, now it's just scary.

The eight-grader was constantly following Sutton around, giggling and laughing like she was actually part of their clique! The nerve of her! Everyone knew was only trying to get back into her old clique by getting on Sutton's good list—which basically meant getting on everyone's good list; even Monica's.

"Ehmagawd, Cecilia, if you start becoming like her, I might just have to rip my own hair out!" Cory giggled, padding a gel-filled sleep mask to her flushed face to keep the laughter-induced redness down.

"Alright, girls, please focus." Sutton brought the attention back to herself easily; alphas do that, "We have exactly—" she checked her limited-edition Tiffany watch "—fifteen minutes before the only acceptable guys in the city come over." Her eyes landed on Cory's sweats, Cecilia's baggy sweater and Elle's holey jeans.

"Ehma_Overload_," she grabbed her phone in her right hand and whisked Cecilia off the bed with her left, "We always have to look ah-mazing…only this time; we're on a time limit."

::

Thirty rejected outfits, three pretty girls, and a huge pile of "out" clothes later; the girls had transformed themselves from "casual chic" to "ah-dorably enhanced".

Elle was clad in a deep purple—her signature color—V-neck, with close-cropped skinny jeans and Marc by Marc Jacobs leather booties. Cecilia's tiny figure was highlighted with a super-tight, grey mid-thigh dress and black flats; her normal "smart-but-sexy" look. Cory had been the last person to get dressed, with a pair of muted red shorts from the only-guest-list-gets-in French boutique down town, and her pure white, beach-inspired lace tank top that made her curls look wavy and free.

The girls primped themselves in the mirror; admiring Sutton's ability to capture their inner radiance without making them seem ah-nnoyingly self-righteous. Because they totally weren't.

A crowd cheering erupted from downstairs and Sutton turned to glare at Cory, "Couldn't you tell your dad to change that door bell to something normal…like a wind chime-y sound or something?" Sutton hated it, but when she was nervous or scared she tended to take out her anger on people she cared about.

Cory didn't seem to mind though, "My dad is weird." Was all she said.

"Hey, guys, what's up?" Xavier could be heard from downstairs, followed by the sound of high-fiving and other manly gestures.

The girls all looked each other slyly and nodded, every deep-conditioned pore tingling with excitement. "Three, two, one…" Sutton whispered, and the girls started to walk in the practiced form: Cold stares, hair blowing softly, glossed lips pouted, hips swaying, heels clicking in harmony.

"And so I was all like, 'Uh, dude, the Steelers stink' and, whoa—" Xavier was the first to stop the girls coming down the stairwell. The look in his dark eyes showed he was obviously turned on.

Sutton was the first to step on the cherry-stained, hardwood floors; Cecilia and Elle walked out next, followed by Cory and Yumi.

"Hey, Xavier!" Cory broke out of formation when she reached her brother, flinging her long limbs around him in a hug.

"Hey, Cory…" he blushed, embarrassed that his sister would hug him in public, no doubt.

"Ehmagawd, X, I am _so _sorry! I toe-dally forgot you had company!" Cory faux-widened her dark blue eyes, "Girls, we should go…" she made a move to make her friends walk out the door, but an ah-dorable, glass-green eyed, brownish-blonde haired kid whistled loudly.

"Nice," he smiled appreciatively, his perfect white teeth made him a nine point five; if he had money and a nice attitude, Sutton knew he would be a perfect ten.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she pushed a streak of hair from her eyes and jutted her hips out slowly, giving him the best view of her, "But we like it anyway."

His smile grew, and Sutton didn't care if he was a jerk or nawt…this guy was perfect!

"Alex," he stuck his hand out for her to shake, "Alex Peterson." His eyes shone with mischief and excitement.

"Sutton," she said slowly, relishing in the fact that she was the first one to find a hawt guy for herself, but _just _to make sure he didn't mistake her desperate, "Let's save my last name until we're not cuhm-plete strangers." With a slow, purposeful wink, she returned to her girls; who looked shocked at her confidence—well, good.

Xavier seemed to take this as a moment to introduce everyone, "Sorry about their manners," he leaned toward Cecilia and smirked, "I personally think they were born in the Stone Ages," at his friend's shoulder-punches, he continued, "That's Tyler," a tall guy with shaggy blonde hair and warm blue eyes; a grey Briarwood Lacrosse sweatshirt sat on top of his perfect, semi-baggy jeans, "Liam," unlike Tyler, who seemed sweet and slightly shy, Liam had his hands resting in pockets, all cocky and preppy. His close-cropped, sandy blonde hair showed off his chiseled profile, and his ice-blue eyes were large and intense. He waved and winked at each of them nonchalantly.

"So," Sutton started wryly, "Why don't we—"

"Hey, kids!" a booming voice came through the doorway, Cory and Xavier groaned.

Loud footsteps echoed through the entryway until they saw the figure of Mr. Carmichael. He had thrown of the jacket to his light grey suit, showing an ironed lilac dress shirt underneath. His handsome face was stubble free, and his dark hair was speckled lightly with grey flecks. He was boyishly handsome, always quick-witted and friendly, that—along with the charm he used on ladies—was made him ESPN's top sports reporter.

He stopped when he saw all the kids in his living room, "What's up, everyone?"

Cory mentally cringed at her dad using the phrase "What's up?" in front of toe-dally cute guys…not to mention her friends! Did he _want _her life to be a social disaster?

Mr. Carmichael flopped down on the fifteen-seater sofa and patted all around him, "It's been a great day at work, I'm tired and pizza and football sound like the perfect combination right now! How about a guy's night?"

The guys all whooped in agreement and kicked back into the couch happily. Manly pride, it gets them every time.

"Xavier, go get Aaron! We're watching this game in pay-per view." Cory's twin happily obeyed his dad and scampered up the stairs to tell his older brother.

"Ehmagawd, I—" Cory started to apologize, but Sutton shook her head calmly, refusing to be let down.

"Whatevs, Cory," she said loudly enough so that the guys could hear, but quietly enough so that they didn't know she wanted them to hear, "We'll just go shopping. Puh-lenty of cute guys to go around _there_."

Sutton's plan worked, all the Briarwood boys turned and looked at Xavier in panic that the girls were leaving; but he just looked at his dad and sighed.

Looks like the guys aren't getting any sugar in _their _coffee tonight.

Once they were outside in the gentle breeze, Cory turned to her friends; ready to get down on her waxed knees and beg forgiveness for the fact that her father was _so _oblivious, but Sutton looked normal—pleased even.

"Your dad is a genius!" she cried, her toes bouncing up and down with happiness in her Dolce & Gabanna heels.

"For ruining our time with boys?" Yumi asked incredulously.

"No! For making us seem…how do I say it? Mysterious. Alluring." She giggled, remembering the look on Alex's face when she had just turned and walked out, "We made sure they know we don't need _them _to have a good time!"

Her friends saw the light at the end of the tunnel…finally.

"You're _so _right!" Cecilia shifted her weight from one Pilates-toned leg to the other, her lustrous curls bounced with each movement, "We should go shopping and _really _lay it on them!" the normally sweet Cecilia suddenly seemed naughty with her short dress and devious attitude.

And Sutton ah-dored her even more for it!

Cory whipped out her phone and speed-dialed their family's personal limo driver; the girls only used it when they were at Cory's, which was only one fifth of the time they were together.

The sleek car pulled up beside them and they all fit their perfect bodies into the plush seats in the back. Sutton felt a vibrating in her butt and checked her phone to see if anyone important was texting. She was right about someone trying to talk to her…but the person wasn't exactly important.

"Should I answer?" she held the phone up; on the screen was an enlarged picture of Whitney, looking normal for once.

"Yes, we need a laugh!" Yumi cried, pulling her dark hair into a loose braid.

Sutton put her phone on speaker and pushed the "call" button, trying to crack up, "Oh, hey, Whit!" she shout-greeted the LBR.

"Sutton?" her nasally voice sounded surprised. _Uh, wasn't she the one that called in the first place? _

"And the girls!" everyone squealed hello and covered their glossed lips in amusement.

"Ehmagawd," Whitney snapped her gum straight into the phone, "I heard Monica is, like, planning this super-huge party! And, like, only the best of the _best _are invited."

"Then my girls and I will toe-dally be there!" she high-fived them as Cory told the driver where they were going.

Whitney chomped down on her gum again and made a slurping noise, Sutton gagged and handed the phone to Yumi so she could press a tissue to her mouth—just in case.

"I miss Monica," Whitney decided after a moment, "And Monique." Monique was Monica's second-in-command.

M & M, as the two were sometimes called, were famous for finding hawt guys, making out with them, and then when they got bored with one, kissing the other one's choice. Guys just ah-dored being double-kissed by M & M. Sutton thought it was a little slutty, but she was satisfied with playing hard to get; Seventeen, Elle and Vogue had all said that girls who played hard to get made boys feel compelled to chase after them.

And who _doesn't _want a sexy guy craving _your _attention for a change?

The huge, red-orange brick tiled mall came into view along the road. Cory lived five minutes away from it, making her the most obvious post-shopping, hair/makeup/clothes check-up house to stop at.

"Listen, Whit, I have to go," she said faux-sweetly, "But I'll see you tomorrow! _Hopefully nawt," _she added in a whisper. All the girls cooed their goodbyes and Yumi hung up the phone.

"Ugh," Elle crossed her ankles lightly, "What a pain in the butt!"

"Girls, don't be rude!" Sutton chastised, "Didn't our parents always tell us to take pity on the less fortunate?"

"Oh, of course!" Cecilia smacked her forehead in mock-agitation as the girls climbed out of the limo, "I must have forgotten to send her my Donations box this week!"

"Naughty, naughty, girl!" Elle smacked Cecilia's shoulder just as they walked through the airy archways at the entrance of the mall.

Each of their pert noses inhaled the scent of crisply folded clothes and expensive perfume at the same time. _This _was what they lived for; high-fashion clothing, high-fashion people…high-fashion _anything_.

"I saw the most ah-dorable sweater at BCBG," Sutton said quickly, "Let's go look; we'll decide from there." With a flourish of her designer shoes, she led her group down the lavishly carpeted floors, through the Exclusive Wing, and all the way toward their destination.

"Hello," she greeted the over-enthusiastic salesperson by the door and rushed forward to the back of the store, her heart pumping at the idea of having something newer and even more exciting than yesterday's clothes to put in her closet.

"See, there it—" the next thing she saw made her stop in her tracks with anger.

There was Fallon Connor, Sutton's co-captain of the OCD cheer team, alpha of the _second-best _clique in seventh grade, and Sutton's arch nemesis—dangling the ah-dorable sweater in between in poorly manicured hands.

"Hey, Sutton!" her low, raspy voice sent anger waves down Sutton's perfectly straight spine.

Sutton took a deep breath and remembered how puh-thetic Fallon was. Her clique was second best, and Sutton's was number one. Enough said.

"Hi, Fallon," she said coolly, summoning all the inner Alpha spirit in her to keep herself from ripping the sweater out of Fallon's unusually sweaty hands, "Ehmagawd, I toe-dally heard about the school's play version of _Romeo and Juliet_, it's so ah-mazing that you got the part!"

Fallon's smile almost dropped, but she pushed her layered blonde hair behind her ears and widened her Crest-whitened pout until her grin was Joker standards.

The wannabe had tried out for the annual school play—acting was basically what she lived for, well that and drama—but had gotten beat out by an unnamed, LBR eight-grader because the girl's mom was the director. Sutton knew Fallon really _was _a good actress, and that she probably would have gotten the part if the mom wasn't biased…but she couldn't _help _but rub it in.

"Everyone already knows I didn't make it, Sutton!" Fallon snapped, her eyes turning angry. Sutton noticed slyly that her denim miniskirt kept riding up her butt; a serious—and flasher-like—fashion faux-pas.

"Hm, guess no one I know really cares enough about the play to tell me about it," Sutton picked up an ugly, clearance-bargained poop-brown scarf from last season and held it in front of Fallon, "This is toe-dally your color. Right, girls?" she winked at her smirking besties, "Doesn't this make her look ah-mazing?"

Fallon's best friend, and the only normal one of her group, Ali, spoke up softly, "It looks like poop. Literally." She pushed a lock of black hair around her finger and tapped her tiny feet against the carpet; the girl was always making music. Even if it meant thumping the ground with her toes, it was still a beat, and a beat created music.

Sutton smirked coyly, "That's why I said it went well with her skin tone."

Fallon's pale face was turning bright red, but she gasped in and out and regained her cool, "Thanks, dear, I'll remember your kindness when I throw my next party."

Fallon threw the best parties…even Sutton had to admit it. But she didn't have to admit it _out loud_, "Hey, where are the rest of your friends?" Sutton asked innocently.

"None of your business," Ali suddenly huffed, strumming an air-guitar with her bony fingers.

The sales guy dressed in all black was giving them confused looks, probably wondering if he should go and help them, or just stay put—and stay out of the catfight.

"Are they getting face lifts?" Elle whispered dramatically from Sutton's left.

Everyone knew that whenever Fallon got a nose job or a forehead lift, her betas, other than Ali, who refused to change her face, copied whatever bone structure she had. For regular, un-popular OCD students, it wasn't noticeable. But for Sutton's keen eye, it was as plain as day.

"OMG, are you guys _obsessed _with me or something?" Fallon waved the silk sweater in the air wildly, and Sutton saw her chance.

Breezing quickly by Ali, she grabbed the sweater from Fallon's loose grip and folded it over her arm, making sure Fallon hadn't creased the classy garment with her outburst.

"_Sutton_!" Fallon cried, her eyes narrowed, "Stop trying to rip off my ideas!"

Sutton only rolled her eyes, turning back to her BFFs for a quick "Ehmagawd, what _is _she talking about?" glance.

"Sir, I'd like this," she gestured for the man who had been staring at them, to come and check out her purchase, she slapped her AmEx into his moisturized hand and turned back to a still-boiling Fallon, "Sorry, darling, but remember; there _is _only one in the Number One." She grabbed the posh bag that the sales person had just given her and turned to strut out of the store, but Fallon had cooled down and had a sly look on her pretty face.

"Maybe your right, Sutton. There _is _only room for one. Like there's only one on top of the pyramid during cheerleading. You might be on top now, but just wait…it takes the people on the bottom of the pyramid to hold the top up; and what if the _bottom _came crumbling down? What would happen to the top?" Fallon swing her hair to the side and flounced after Ali out the glass doors.

Sutton felt her eyes widen when she figured out Fallon's words:

Sutton was the top cheerleader on the pyramid…

But Fallon was who kept Sutton sanding up, the bottom to her top. And maybe Fallon, and the bottom, would—purposely—come crashing down.

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><p><strong>Like it? <strong>

**Alright, I have requests: Please still review for this story! I need some more people to make it complete! PLEASE keep submitting characters! But, in every review, I would like one, JUST ONE, idea of what you would like to happen to your OC. And keep adding more than one OC, its fine with me! **

**Anyway, thanks for reading! Now just review, love you all! xoxoxo**


	5. The Note

**Lalalala, wow I updated pretty fast! Anyway, please keep sending me reviews of new characters and new ideas for the story! I love them sooo much! Again, sorry if I didn't use an OC you submitted. Only so many ideas can fit into one chapter, and I PROMISE everyone's OC WILL be in this story!**

**Please read :)**

* * *

><p>"<em>No<em>," Richmond Hale screamed into the phone, his broad face turning an unhealthy shade of red, "Don't you _dare _put him in charge of sending the invites! Remember what happened _last _time he was in charge of something?" his fist repeatedly smacked down on the polished table, rattling everyone's china plates.

Eleanor Moss-Hale wiped her thin mouth with a burgundy cloth napkin and turned to Cecilia, "Honey, how was school today?" she asked in an attempt to take her daughter's attention off of Richmond.

Cecilia looked at her seven-year-old sister, Blair, and shrugged, "Good, I guess," she popped a California roll in her mouth and mused over the day's events; nothing exciting or unusual came to mind, "All I had was an Algebra test and some aerobics to work on in gym class."

Eleanor smiled, the crow's-eyes creased along the sides of her bright green eyes deepened slightly, "Good to hear, darling. And you, Blair?" she turned to the "rebel" of the family.

All Blair did to do be a "rebel" was wear skinny jeans and combat boots, plug her iPod permanently into her ear, and pretend that wearing knee-high socks with your Converse was cool.

So, she was more of a fashion disaster than a rebel.

Another loud bang erupted as Richmond got agitated yet again and Blair started to speak, "I met this guy…" she twirled a piece of hot-pink-streaked hair around her pale finger.

"Who? Spill!" her mother leaned forward in the hard-backed chair and widened her eyes dramatically. Cecilia groaned at the childish manor her mother sometimes acted in.

Blair didn't seem to mind though, "He's one of those band-rocker types, with floppy hair and no one understands him and—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Richmond cut into the conversation, his face a normal tone and his BlackBerry positioned next to him on the table, "What are we talking about?" he grasped the chopsticks with his large, rough hand and dipped his sushi into a bowl of soy sauce, wiping his mouth—with a fair amount of grace for his callousness—on a cloth napkin positioned in his lap.

Blair rolled her grey eyes, "A boy, Dad."

"A _what_?" Richmond's face started to gain the redness it was famous for.

Eleanor put a small hand on his shoulder, "A boy, honey-cakes. She likes a cute little boy at school and she was telling Cecilia and I about it."

Cecilia pushed a curl away from her forehead—they were always getting into her eyes—and spoke up, "I went to Cory's yesterday."

Richmond looked relieved at the change of topic, "Ah, Cory! I've always liked that girl!" he motioned for Cecilia to go on.

"We just went to her house and talked about some things. Nothing really special." There was actually something _very _special, but Cecilia wasn't stupid enough to tell the rest. Her parents would pester her until they knew every last detail about her love life.

Embarrassing, much?

"It's good for you girls to just relax. Always being active gives you wrinkles!" she pinched her cheekbone and color flooded to the area.

Mrs. Moss-Hale was known for her modeling career. Her blasé, classy demeanor always got her any job she wanted. After getting pregnant with Cecilia, she had quit modeling for a time; to stay home with her new family. Only after Blair was born did she start getting back into the fashion world; but now instead of walking the runway with a layered dress draped around her thin body—she coached other girls on how to walk fashionably in that same dress; _and _look like a million bucks.

Mr. Hale was one of the most well-known business men in New York. He was first-in-command for FedEx's New York post. Big, with broad shoulders and bulky arms, he was fierce and unyielding to any other competitor. His tasteful outfits and searing blue eyes toe-dally upped his importance factor.

The four sat in a comfortable silence; Mrs. Moss-Hale thinking about her latest client, Mr. Hale nit-picking for anything that went wrong that day, Blair feeding their Beagle—Cooper—her broccoli from under the table, and Cecilia trying nawt to retch on her food on account of the Cooper's disgusting hunger-induced drool.

"Girls," their father said abruptly, "I have a question."

Both the girls sat forward in rapt attention—it wasn't _every _day their father asked _them _a question.

"Well, your mother and I are having a little…get together with some big business associates a week from today," he paused to look over at his wife, who waved him on with a shell-pink painted fingernail, he cleared his throat and went on, "We would love for our beautiful daughters to attend."

Cecilia slumped back in her seat. So that was the big question? The girls _never _went to their parent's gatherings. First of all, they didn't want to; and secondly: They were never invited.

Blair gathered her unruly dark hair into one hand and looked over her split ends, "What's so special that we get to come?"

Cecilia made a mental note to thank her sister for being so tactless as she waited for her father's answer.

Mr. Hale frowned at his daughter's rude tone, but continued, "I…just figured you'd like to come for once. You know, as a family event."

The girls both knew their father was up to something, but they also just _couldn't _say no to a new adventure; so they nodded and pressed their petal-pink lips together, suppressing the urge to interrogate their parents.

Suddenly, Mrs. Moss-Hale's eyes widened, and her Armani "Code" scented wrist flew up to her face as she checked the time on her Tiffany & Co. watch, "Oh my, I'm late!" she scrambled from her seat and hurried toward the front door; grabbing her wine-colored purse on the way.

"Late for what?" Cecilia lifted her small body from the chair and walked slowly to stand beside her mother; who was currently trying to shove her attractively-muscled arms into the sleeves of her coat while speed-texting on her phone.

"My new client! I was supposed to be in the office, ready for a meeting, fifteen minutes ago!" she slipped her feet into a pair of nude heels and grasped the golden handle to the front door.

Cecilia was used to her mother's frantic ways; so she sighed and blew her an air-kiss, "See you later, Mom!" she waited until the door clicked shut before she walked back into the dining room. Her dad and sister were talking softly, acting as though nothing had happened.

"I'll be upstairs, taking a hot bath." Cecilia informed her family.

"Don't be long! I heard CSI: Miami is on at eight…and you _know _the newest episode is a real thriller!" Richmond leaned back in the chair and gave his oldest daughter a dashing smile.

Cecilia and her sister had gotten their parents hooked on crime-investigating shows a few months ago; when their parents had walked in on a special about murder-mysteries; ever since then, the family gathered at least two times a week for some gruesome, and yet somehow alluring, entertainment.

She pointed both of her thumbs upward and walked up the steps slowly, feeling suddenly drained. She'd spent the past few nights staying up late, studying for midterms and AP tests. And Sutton was becoming more and more impatient with the lack of excitement going on at OCD; she _swore _that this was like the calm before the storm. That whenever nuh-thing happened for a long period of time; disaster was sure to enjoy an all-access-paid visit.

The brainy beta turned the water to high heat, poured soothing aloe-infused bubble bath into the porcelain tub, and cranked up the jets. Her curly hair was pulled into a loose bun on top of her head, and a stack of magazines—right next to her phone—provided a cure for any type of boredom she might have while soaking.

Her worries were just starting to mix in with the lavender-scented bubble bath, when her phone blasted "Candyman" on full volume, interrupting her from figuring out if girls wearing loafers was hawt or nawt.

She checked the caller ID and smiled, Sutton's smug smile lit up on the touch screen, making Cecilia feel like her alpha was in the bathroom with her.

"Hello?" she said into the phone, bringing a pile of bubbles to rest on her B-cups…just in case.

One can _never _be too cautious.

"Hey," Sutton's smooth voice replied crisply, "I've got the rest of the girls on the phone too."

"Bonjour les filles!" Cecilia greeted her BFFs.

Sutton giggle-scoffed, "Wow, Cece, I know your taking Advanced French, but do you _really _have to go all UN on us?"

Cecilia heard Elle's signature snort-laugh through the phone. Some of her tension disappeared the second she heard their playful banter.

"Ehmagawd, girls!" Yumi suddenly gasped into the phone, her voice urgent.

"_What?" _everyone cried, poised to speed-dial 911 if someone was going to hurt their friend.

"You will _nawt _believe what I just heard!" Yumi fingers could be heard clicking her cell phone's keyboard in the background, "I got a text saying that Monica is throwing a toe-dally awesome End-Of-September party—"

"Who throws an End-Of-September party?" Sutton muttered, and everyone except Yumi giggled.

"—and she's only inviting _one _seventh-grade clique." Yumi finished with one last tap to her keyboard; the snap of her phone being shut cut through the sudden silence.

"Only…one?" Elle whimpered.

Sutton felt like she might puke. How _dare _Monica scare her friends like this! Was she really so insecure with herself that she had no mess with pure, innocent seventh-graders? "Girls, listen up," her voice sounded level and calm—just like an alpha's should, "Who are the most popular seventh-graders at OCD?"

"We are," they girls whispered.

"Who fights for that title on a daily basis?"

"We do," their voices were stronger.

"Who can toe-dally claw their way into Monica's party?"

"We can!"

"And who will throw an even _better _party if Monica's walk matches her talk?"

"We will!" the girls sounded pumped; and Sutton felt just like she did when her cheer team finished a perfect routine: Energized, proud, and ready to take over the world.

Just not right before her evening massage with Helen…any time after that would do.

"I'm so glad we're friends," Yumi said after a moment of peaceful silence, "You girls really do bring out the best in me."

"Awww," Sutton cooed, "If we weren't on the phone right now, I'd toe-dally give you guys a _huge _group hug!"

"Ehmagawd, guys, I have to go…my mom is driving me nuts with this new shirt she's making," Elle's mom could be heard yelling for her daughter in the background, "Talk to you at school tomorrow!" she clicked the button and her line went dead.

"I'm out too! Peace out, darlings!" Cory hung up.

Cecilia, Yumi and Sutton all sighed goodbyes and pressed End.

The smell of lavender overpowered Cecilia's pert nose and she realized she was still soaking in the bathtub. She quickly pulled herself out and examined her toes; they looked like dried prunes. The beginning sounds of CSI: Miami muffled from downstairs.

Cecilia ran into her shell-pink and white room and pulled out her Burberry lilac-colored, silk pajama set and threw them on; winding her hair into a fishtail braid—it would be extra curly tomorrow from the wetness, but she would deal.

When she reached the casual living room of their mansion, her father Blair were sprawled across the sectional couch, watching their show on the plasma screen. A bowl of buttered popcorn sat on the glass table in front of them. Her dad was in pajama pants and a white T-shirt; while Blair still had on black jeans, a "Hello Kitty" top, and her multi-color Converse on.

"Did I miss a lot?" Cecilia scurried in the room and took a spot between them, wrapping a plaid blanket around herself.

"No," Blair whispered, her eyes glued to the screen, "Only one person got shot. The police still don't know who did it."

Cecilia nodded and flicked a piece of popcorn into her mouth; it would take her three hours to burn off all the fat from the butter, but she didn't care.

She was _finally _starting to relax.

::

Elle puckered up her full lips one last time and stared at herself in the small mirror in her locker.

Her strawberry-blonde hair was tousled to perfection; her light blue eyes were lined with brown kohl, making them seem brighter than usual. Her front-lace, cream cardigan made her chest look one cup size bigger—a _very _good thing—and her orange L.A.M.B A-line skirt made her legs longer and leaner than ever…but something just wasn't right!

The problem hit her with a bang, and she felt stupid for nawt realizing it before: She didn't have a boyfriend to complete her look!

Guys were what she was _made _for; Sutton was good at leading, Cecilia was good at being smart, Cory was good at sports, and Yumi was good at being in the know—but Elle was given the talent of attracting, and flirting with boys, easily.

There was something about her curvy figure and carefree spirit that boys just ah-dored. But her talent was wasted when there were no guys to flirt with.

But her hopeless heart lifted when she thought about the Briarwood boys; they were cute, rich, and funny…not to mention Cory had pretty good connections—considering her brother was one of them. Maybe with a little hard work and feminine charm, she could have a boyfriend waiting to carry her bags when they went shopping, telling her she looked beautiful, protecting her, flirting with her—

"Elle! Elle Thorn?" a voice broke her from her happy thoughts about a boyfriend; she turned to see her semi-friend Elizabeth Bartin speed-walking toward her, a cream-colored piece of paper dangling from her hand.

Liz was somewhat of a wannabe; with heat-damaged blonde hair and muddy brown eyes. Her clothes were always too short and skanky, making her look…well, easy.

Elle humored the girl by hanging out with her in gym, but Liz seemed to think she was "in" by Sutton's standards, which was _far _from true. She was constantly following Elle and her friends around, trying to be BFFs with them. Elle assumed this was another one of those times, and turned to face the locker, pretending to re-apply her makeup.

"Elle!" a bony finger poked her in the shoulder; she twisted her head back and was blinded by Liz's almost-blue teeth, "I called your name, but you didn't see me, so I came to your locker!" she beamed, nonchalantly pulling her thigh-high, leather skirt even farther up her leg.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I was too busy redoing my mascara to notice." With that apparent get-away-from-me-I'm-busy note, the beta turned to spray some Viva La Juicy on her neck—but Liz _ahb-viously _still didn't get the hint.

"Elle, I need you to—" the ah-noying semi-LBR cupped her sweaty palm around Elle's shoulder and turned her around.

"Uh, Liz, I would _really _appreciate it if you would _leave me alone _for a few minutes!"

Liz turned red, "B-But…Monica told me to give this to you!" she lifted her mousy little hand and held the cream-colored paper under Elle's nose, "She said to get this to you as quickly as I could…that it was urgent!"

Elle caught a whiff of Monica's floral perfume, and knew Liz wasn't lying, "Thanks for delivering it to me, dear. You can go now." She flashed a quick smile to her quasi-friend.

Liz pouted, "I gave it to you! Can I puh-lease read it?"

"No," any amount of gratitude Elle felt for the girl vanished in a moment; Liz really _was _as annoying as everyone said, "Monica wanted _me _to read it. Do you _really _want to question her authority?"

Liz huffed and stomp-walked away; looking like a slut in her too-short skirt.

Elle opened the note quickly, recognizing Monica's swirly, elegant writing:

_**Meet me in five minutes behind the south entrance. I know you girls can all make it, because classes don't start for another fifteen. I have something super-important to tell you. I'm giving this to whichever member of Sutton's clique I see first. Text your friends and tell them—fast, or else you'll be out of the know. And no one likes that.**_

_**-M**_

Elle admired the alpha for her mysterious and enthralling tactics; now the girls _had _to come see what she was talking about. She quickly pulled out her phone and forwarded a quick text to her friends.

**Elle: Meet me at my locker. Now. Monica has news.**

Less than a minute later, everyone was standing around Elle, reading the note with wide eyes.

"Should we go?" Cecilia nervously twirled her pearl necklace.

"Duh!" Yumi gathered her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck, a habit of hers, "Sutton, puh-lease!" she begged her alpha, "We _have _to see what Monica has to say! She's the top eight-grader in the school, and _she _wants to see _us_!"

Sutton was about tell Yumi a million reasons why begging was LBR-ish, and that she had forgotten that Monica wasn't a goddess, when something clicked.

Monica was an alpha. And so was Sutton. Alphas talked; they shared ideas, learned from each other, and became better at being in charge. How could Sutton say no to someone who was just like her…except older.

"We only have three minutes; we'll have to walk fast." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and started to saunter down the hallway, making other students clear a path.

Yumi let out a little giggle of excitement and Sutton rolled her eyes; Monica might have been cool and experienced and all…but, in Sutton's mind, she a bit too overdramatic.

They came to the doors of the south exit, leading outside; the girls shared a five-way glance and took deep, empowering breaths, gaining strength from each other. With a small shove, Sutton pushed open the door and stepped into the crisp, fall air. Her layers blew in the breeze, and she could feel her cheeks turning numb with cold.

"She's here," Cecilia whispered calmly, and Sutton looked her left.

Monica stood, leaning against the brick wall to the left of them. Her champagne-colored ringlets were tucked under a wool hat, tipped sideways just to perfection. Her eyes were wide and smug, her lips, shiny with just-applied gloss, were lifted into a small smirk. Her tall frame was clad in a pure white pea coat, with black tights and mini-leather Michael Kors booties.

Beside her, looking gorgeous, was her BFF and second-in-command, Monique Steel. Her hazel eyes glowed with anticipation, and she smiled widely; showing off her iPod-white teeth. Her dark hair ran to her waist in polished strands.

"Well, well, well," Monica's low, raspy voice was almost a whisper, "You girls decided to come." She glanced at Monique and her smile grew, "We're very glad."

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><p><strong>I had lots of fun writing Monica! I hope you enjoyed reading! Sooo, for this chaper, I'd like new characters still; but for those of you who have already submitted: Give me a random, toe-dally abnormal fact about your OC. Like...they're favorite food is steak, or that they can't sleep without a nightlight, something weird like that. <strong>

**Again, more OCs would be wonderful! And please keep adding ideas and other things to help me with our story! PM me if you want. As always, READ AND REVIEW! xoxo**


	6. Ice Skating

**What's up, guys? I know, I've been slacking on my updates! And oh my...this chapter is not my best. It was sort of a filler chaper, so PLEASE dont get mad if it's a little jumbled and not as exciting as the others. If a character you have submitted isn't in the story yet; just be patient, they're time will come! **

**Disclaimer: Any brand I mention is nawt mine! Only the plot is. **

**Read and Review!**

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><p>Sutton felt trapped. And that was the <em>worst <em>feeling an alpha could _ever _have.

She was sweating from the roots of her deep-conditioned hair to the tips of her emerald-green painted toes. But no one knew that—on the outside her face was cool and blank, looking at Monica with an air of defiance in her expression.

"Did you lure us out here so you could stare at us for an hour?" Sutton let the wind blow her sleek hair around her heart-shaped face; her toes clenching inside her vintage suede boots.

Monica let her hand flutter along her bangs, pushing them back, "No," her voice, along with many other things, was something Monica was known for. Deep and raspy—with a sexy quality other girls couldn't pull off—she could attract any guy around her.

Monique spoke up from beside her alpha, "We have a reason for everything we do, Sutton." Her lilting voice was high and reedy…contrasting Monica's tone perfectly, "We just don't like to rush." With a slow wink, Monique lifted a tube of lip gloss from her Louis Vuitton-monogrammed tote.

Sutton was tempted to spray her fruity perfume in Monica's eyes, stomp on her ah-nnoyingly fashionable footwear, and trudge back into the school before the bell rang—but she knew only whiny LBRs did that; so she stayed still, her features giving away nuh-thing, "I realize that; and I'd be happy to stand here for an hour while you think of what to say…but I have a life!" Sutton heard her friends' snickering from behind her, and instantly felt rejuvenated. Sassing back to Monica was _nawt _something one did without feeling panicked.

But the two older girls didn't seem the least bit threatened by Sutton's wit; in fact, their perfectly-lined eyes seemed to grow more confident by the minute—if that was even _possible_.

Monique lifted herself from against the wall and stood with her hands placed lightly on her hips, "Let's tell them. We only have ten minutes until class starts." Her gaze flicked passively to the huge brick building in front of them.

Monica nodded, taking her curls for a ride, "I don't waste time, girls. Long story short, I like a guy; he's cute, funny and toe-dally M & M-approved—"

"So why can't you get him yourself?" Sutton regretted saying the words as soon as they left her mouth; Monica would _kill _her for that comment.

But Monica didn't seem mad, she almost seemed…pleased, "Because I don't want to end up like Whitney." She let her eyebrow arch upward and her lips curled into a smile.

"Touché," Elle started to crack up from the back of the group, making the tension disappear like Jen's chances of a happy marriage.

Sutton's smile was a little warmer when she realized Monica was trying nawt to laugh at Elle's outburst. Maybe, just maybe, she could relax and listen to what Monica and Monique needed…

She did say maybe.

"Whatevs," Sutton said coolly, "You like a guy and he has _no _idea you exist—"

Monica opened her mouth to protest angrily, but Sutton summoned her inner bulldozer and rolled along without missing a beat.

"—what exactly will I have to do for him to notice you?"

Monica pulled a small sheet of paper from her cashmere pocket and slid a French-tipped nail down the length of it, "Everything you need," her booties stepped perfectly in line along the asphalt, stopping only to plop the piece of paper into Sutton's tense hand, "Is on this paper. Oh, and remember," her eyes narrowed dangerously, "This is the _only _way you'll get into my party. Toodles, dah-lings!" with Monique's designer-clad arm in her own, Monica flounced right back into the doors of OCD; leaving five _very _pretty girls looking bluer than Elle's kohl-defined eyes.

::

"Can we puh-lease just take a break?" Elle leaned back on the La-Z-Boy recliner and punched Cecilia's shin with her left arm, "We've been sitting here for, like, _hours_!"

Cecilia aimed a lazy smack at Elle's head and looked up from Monica's mysterious note, "It's been thirty minutes since we got to Sutton's…and you haven't done anything except watch _E! _for half of it!"

Elle scowled, fake-pouting as she crossed her arms, "So?"

Yumi let her dark hair swing over Cecilia's shoulder, "Any luck?"

The girls were in Sutton's theater room—complete with home-made popcorn and a huh-yuge TV. Instead of the uncomfortable, butt-numbing seats; the girls each had their own heated, leathery recliners—equipped with tissues in the armrest, just in case—to relax in.

But, this time, our girls weren't here to unwind—they were in this particular room to solve a mystery. The Monica-Monique Mystery or Triple M, as Cory was now calling it. Cecilia, as the notorious "smarty" in the group, was still trying to decipher who the boy could be.

"Read it again," Sutton tucked her denim-clad legs under her chin and draped a fleece blanket over her shoulder, "We might get it this time!"

"Alright," Cecilia sighed, looking at the paper for the millionth time.

**There are so many fish in the sea,**

**But let me tell you the one for me:**

**He has my favorite color hair**

**A shining tone of blonde**

**With the deepest, largest, greyest eyes;**

**That remind me of a crystal-clear pond**

**He's into sports, that certainly shows**

**And one of you; he dearly knows…**

The girls all shared a groan, rubbing their Nars-treated eyes and stretching their legs in defeat. They _knew _that the boy was cute; that he had blonde hair and grey eyes…but he knew one of _them_ dearly?

Cory pulled out her phone and checked the time, "Girls, I think it might be time for me to say _Aloha _and blow this Popsicle stand. It's almost ten, and just _thinking _about listening to lectures tomorrow makes me want to scream." She ran her hands down her long legs and made her way over to hug Sutton.

"We'd better go too," Cecilia grabbed Elle and Yumi's arms and hooked them in her own, pulling the three of them up.

Sutton watched her friends get up with a blank look of her face; something ticking in the back of her brain…if only she could figure it out!

The thought was still in her mind, taunting her, when the girls were about to walk out the front door. The backs of their chic shoes disappearing out of the doorframe made her heart squeeze inside her rib cage.

This was _just like _Monica. Torturing younger girls for her own enjoyment.

Doesn't that sound a little like someone we know and love?

She clenched the stupid poem in between her fingers and walked up the stairs; her parents were out for the night, so—besides the housekeeper and butler—she was all alone.

"Ugh!" she flopped onto her duvet, "At least I know one person who won't leave me!" her slim hand reached for the diamond-incrusted doggy whistle on her night side table. She took in a big breath and blew into the whistle; waiting for the sound of little, clipped toenails slipping against the wooden floor.

"Sophie!" Sutton cried happily, opening her arms wide for the Tiny Teacup Yorkie puppy. The dog's little pink tongue fell out of its mouth and started licking Sutton's face happily.

"Your bow!" the alpha reached on top of Sophie's tiny head and adjusted the sapphire-blue bow; it had been hanging just under her chin, "Have you been messing around in Daddy's weight room again?"

Sophie let out a small yip and nuzzled into Sutton's lap; the dog had a tendency to play around in Mr. Minchew's expensive—and dangerous—private weight room. But right now, Sutton didn't have the heart to scold her dog. Sophie was the only living object that could know how dejected she felt.

She fingered the bow, and the closer she looked, the more the silky fabric resembled Cory's eyes. Sutton kept thinking for a minute…Cory had two brothers, didn't she? There was Xavier, but he didn't have blonde hair.

Sutton felt her hope plummeting faster than Justin Bieber's career—until she remembered Aaron.

_He _had blonde hair, _he _had grey eyes, _he _loved sports…and Cory was ahb-viously knew him dearly! Plus, he was a year older than Monica, so that made him even more irresistible to her! Sutton almost high-fived herself; but remembered only losers do that; she had better things to do.

The first of those things was to find an ah-mazing victory outfit for school tomorrow.

"Sophie," she set her dog in the puffy, pink doggy-bed next to her own, "I need to look ah-dorable tomorrow. I just cracked Monica's code—_that _deserves a Nobel Prize." Sutton padded across her carpeted bedroom into the adjoining walk-in closet.

"Something that screams _I'm smart and classy, but nawt afraid to pull of sexy_," she muttered to herself, sauntering over to the dress section of her color-and-type-of-clothing-coded closet.

After thirty minutes of sorting through all different brands of clothes—Sutton found her match.

A loose Pucci-print jumper, in a brick-red shade, made her legs look ten times longer and tanner then they actually were. She paired to warm tone of a jumper with a braided gold belt that cinched around her waist and made her look a slender hour-glass shape. To avoid being all matchy-matchy—that was something the alpha _despised_—she chose black, strappy, Mary Jane gladiator sandals to show her perfect pedicure, and keep her look breezy and fun.

Just to make sure she looked purr-fect, Sutton whipped her iPhone from a stand next to her and stood, poised for a picture, in front of the full-length mirror. Mirrors could lie—duh—and so could camera phones…but they did _nawt _lie at the same time.

There was nuh-thing to worry about; her hair was silky and smooth, her eyes bright, her skin clear, and her teeth whiter than a pearl.

Once again, she felt like a true alpha. And as she slipped on her satin boy-shorts and cami, all she could think about was how _ah-mazed _everyone would be tomorrow.

She couldn't wait.

::

Yumi couldn't take it anymore. She slammed her chai latte onto the table and grabbed Sutton's salad, shoving it toward Elle and Cecilia.

Sutton looked surprised, "What?"

Yumi rolled her dark eyes, "You _know _what!" she snapped, "You told us today in homeroom that you would tell us who Monica likes in lunch—oh, look! Its lunch!" the beta knew she was being semi-mean, but gossip was Yumi's thing! _She _was supposed to tell_ Sutton _the latest news, and then Sutton decided what to do with it.

And what made it worse was that Sutton was _milking _it; Yumi had to admit it was a good strategy—she wanted to know what Sutton had. But that didn't make it any _better_!

"Oh, that!" Sutton slyly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and reached for a bottle of Energize Vitamin Water, "Sorry, I forgot all about it."

Yumi wasn't buying it, Sutton's eyes sparkled and gleamed too much for someone who "forgot" about her latest gossip.

Sutton giggled and reached around Cory to retrieve her salad, "Fine, girls, I'll spill," the alpha innocently twirled her diamond studs, leaving one last dramatic pause, "Monica isn't as smart as she thinks; I cracked her code easily." Sutton made a mental note to give Sophie extra treats from the French dog-boutique downtown.

"WHO IS IT?" the four betas looked at their alpha; glossed lips pouted in annoyance.

Sutton scoffed, "Gawd, I was _getting _to that! No need to get all Godzilla on me." She decided to stop torturing the girls, "Alright, put awn your thinking caps! Tell me about Cory, explain her life to me." Sutton snorted at the bemused expressions on her friend's faces, "Trust me—you'll understand."

Elle raised her hand, but spoke anyway, "She's freakishly tall!"

Cory flicked Elle in the shoulder, "Kidding!" Elle turned to Yumi and Cecilia for backup.

"She's got two brothers," Cecilia looked like she was only doing this to humor Sutton, "One of them is a twin. The other is in high school."

Sutton smirked, "What do her brothers look like?"

Yumi's face instantly lit up, "Aaron! Monica likes _Aaron_!" she clapped her hands twice and her perky butt bounced in her seat.

"Shh!" Sutton hissed; the whole OCD café didn't have to know about their conversation.

"Aaron? My brother?" Cory stared blankly at Sutton for what seemed like forever…then she started to crack up, "Ehmagawd! Wait till I tell Xavier!" she held her stomach in laughter, making it look, to an innocent bystander, like she was about to barf.

Sutton snapped upright, "You can't tell _anyone_, Cory. Nawt until I talk to Monica."

Elle hefted her tote onto the table, "For_get _about Monica," she said while touching up her cheek tint, "Let's focus on us!"

"What about us?" Sutton pulled her silver streak apart from the rest of her hair, making sure it was still bright and shiny.

Elle switched to her lips, pressing a wand of gloss against her mouth, "Our boy lives…we have none." She ignored Sutton's sniff and continued, "We _need _boyfriends, girls! What's a popular, pretty girl to do without a handsome, dashing boy by her side?" she held her Chanel compact mirror and puckered her full lips; making sure she looked ah-mazing, "I can agree with Monica: I might have a little _thing _for your twin, Cor."

"Gawd, I'm like a _dating _service!" Cory smiled, "You should have told me before, Elle. You and Xavier would be attending Fashion Week together by now!"

"I thought Liam was cute…" Cecilia twirled a piece of hair around her finger in an almost childlike manor, "I've always had a thing for bad boys—Hugh Grant, in his younger days, always makes me turn the TV volume up."

A peal of laughter and high-fiving Cecilia was all that was heard for a few minutes, until someone cleared their throat from behind the girls.

"Oh, sorry," Monica's voice sounded anything but apologetic, "I didn't know guys cared _that much _about who I liked," she lifted her hand to her heart and simpered, "How touching."

Sutton wiped the laughter-tears from her eyes, sat up straighter, and smoothed her short bob behind her ear, "Whatevs." She was proud of herself for sounding cool and bored, "Oh, we solved your little riddle."

Sutton shoved her hand into her bag and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from the bottom. She stood up slowly and pushed the note into Monica's long, lean fingers. Under Monica's poem was the word _AARON _scrolled sloppily.

"Good job!" Monique—standing beside Monica as always—honestly looked excited for them…until Monica elbowed her in the ribs.

"Yeah, great. It didn't take a _rocket scientist _to figure it out, Mo!" her semi-narrowed eyes turned back toward Sutton, "Step one is now complete," Sutton had to stop herself from cracking up at Monica's spy-like formality.

"What's step two?" Yumi actually sounded curious.

"Now," Monica stopped talking to glare at an eighth-grade LBR trying to get past her; once the freak was past, the alpha continued, "All you have to do is get him to notice me."

"When exactly is this party?" Sutton couldn't stop herself from asking—really, did Monica expect her to perform a _miracle _in any time less than a month?

She was ah-mazing…but even people like Sutton couldn't accomplish the impossible.

"Three weeks." Monica raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows, "That isn't too much, right? I just assumed since you're _so _talented, you could pull this off."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere," But Sutton loved Monica for trying.

"I know…but the fact that you'll be the _only _seventh-grade clique there should be."

"_That_, my friend, will get you somewhere!" Cory grinned on the other side of the table, her blonde hair was tamed into a ballerina bun and her wide, blue eyes looked positively angelic; even Monica had to crack a smile at her enthusiasm.

"See you later, dear," she air-kissed Sutton twice for good measure; she pivoted on her exclusive Jimmy Choo, leather boots and walked with a dancer's grace out of the café. The crowd of students lining every table literally parted to let the gorgeous alpha pass through. Monique's dark hair drifted behind her as she followed her fierce leader.

After a moment of silence, Cecilia sighed, "Her vagueness is making me want to rip her disgustingly silky hair right out of her head."

"Cory," Sutton said suddenly, her eyes were filled with realization, "You and Monica are going to have a skating lesson."

::

The sound of skates whirring on ice sent a chill through Cory's lanky body. All around her in the Westchester Private Ice Rink, couples skated hand in hand, not wanting to look away from each other's eyes; while professional figure skaters leaped and danced across the ice.

She had never felt so uncomfortable.

Sure, she was an ah-mazing athlete: Playing basketball, soccer and tennis was like second nature to the tall blonde—and she was lucky enough to wear those _ah-dorable_ little tennis skirts!—but all those sports took place on _land_.

Off land, she was just as klutzy as Cecilia with a jet ski.

But Sutton had insisted that Cory come here and skate with Monica. She _promised _she would make it up to Cory by playing in a soccer tournament with her all day. Cory didn't think that was entirely true…but it felt nice to having Sutton begging for something from her, so she'd agreed.

Now all she had to do was fake-skate with Monica for an hour or two, make Aaron pick her up from the rink, and go home to a nice, hot shower.

Done, done and done.

Cory was about to give up and stuff herself with the gumballs in the machine next to her, when she saw a tall figure walking into the rink.

Monica Lavenge was in the room. And she looked…casual. A pair of straight-legged jeans clung to her legs and vanished into a pair of tan, fuzzy Ugg boots—nawt the Ugg-ly, fake ones some people had the guts to wear—while her slim torso was clad in an oversize, but still fashionable, turquoise Ralph Lauren V-neck sweater.

"Hey, Cory!" her voice was warmer than usual.

Cory stood and felt stupid for wearing a cap-sleeved jersey-dress—she hadn't really known how people dress when they go to the skating rink. But, according to what people were wearing around her, everyone had one thing in mind while getting dressed: Keep _warm_!

"Ready?" Monica pulled a pair of pure white skates out of her sports bag.

"Uh…" Cory was seconds away from smacking herself in the face, "I didn't bring any?" the statement came out more like a question.

Instead of snickering, Monica smiled and pointed to a counter where a middle-aged guy in a Michigan sweatshirt was handing out ice skates, "Go over there. They'll let you rent a pair of skates. They aren't as good as having a pair of your own…but that's okay!" she sat down gracefully on a bench and started to lace up her skates.

Cory walked over to the counter, a ten-dollar bill clutched tightly in her fist, "One pair of skates, please."

"What size?" the man wiped his scruffy beard and lifted himself from his bending position on his elbows.

"Six and a half?" Cory only knew what size shoe she wore when they went to Saks or Bloomingdales, nawt in some random ice-skating rink.

He handed her a pair of scruffy-looking brown ice skates and went back to hunching over the counter.

After ten minutes of attempting to get the skate on, Cory finally pushed herself off the bench and waddled her way onto the ice. Monica was right behind her, walking as smoothly as if she were in normal shoes.

"Do you know how to skate, Cory?" Monica asked.

Cory gripped the railing to keep from falling over, "No…" there was no point in lying.

Monica clapped, doing a little dance—if you could call it that, the ice skates made it hard to do anything but shuffle forward slowly, "Oh, goodie! A newbie! Don't worry, Cory; I've won _at least _ten medals for figure skating pageants. It's my thing. I'll teach you in no time!"

For the next hour, Monica taught Cory how to act like your gliding from foot to another. How to do little spins in the air; by the end of her "lesson" Cory could skate backward for a maximum of three seconds—three seconds!

"Whew," the two of them plopped down on the cushy seats reserved for club members; which Monica was a part of.

"That was…fun." Cory surprised herself by saying that. Monica had been funny and kind the _whole _time they were together. No digs, no sarcastic comments, and no I'm-better-than-you stares were sent Cory's way. Maybe Sutton was wrong about Monica…maybe she was nice, just trying to keep up a reputation.

Of course, she _had _been wrong before.

"Ohmuhgud!" Monica practically jumped out of her seat, knocking Cory off hers in the process.

"_What?" _Cory's finger was poised just above the '9' button on her phone…just in case.

"Is that Aaron?" Monica was staring at the entryway of the rink.

Cory hoisted herself up from the ground and peered in that general direction—sure enough, Aaron was walking through the doors. In a pair of Diesel jeans and his Briarwood Wrestling sweatshirt, he looked sporty and hawt. His hair was semi-spiky and looked like he had just gotten out of the shower.

Once he saw Cory, his face lit up and he jogged up the stairs and into the hallway leading to where the two girls were sitting.

"He's _sooo_ hawt," Monica tugged a compact mirror from her D&G purse and gave herself a sultry, boy-attracting look that _always _worked, "Rate me." She snapped her fingers to get Cory's attention.

"You look fine," Sutton was always asking Cory to rate her—and Cory said the same thing each time.

"_Rate _me!" Monica hissed.

"Okay, okay!" Cory thought for a moment, tapping her polished nail against her small chin, the sound of Aaron's footsteps made Monica wave her hands frantically for Cory to hurry up, "Fine, you're a nine point four. The jeans have a rip…and I hate that." Cory winked devilishly, a thing so _very _unlikely for the sweet girl to do, just as Aaron grabbed her in a tight bear-hug.

"Sis!" he planted kisses her cheeks, which were turning a bright red.

Monica giggled, batting her mascara-coated eyes at Aaron.

"Ew, put me down!" Cory hissed, shoving her ah-noying brother away from her.

"Oh, don't be _mean_, Cory!" Monica stood slowly, giving Aaron a view of her profile, "He ahb-viously loves you ah-lot!"

Aaron gave Monica a noticeable once-over, "Thank you! You see, she sometimes doesn't appreciate the _love _and _adoration _I show to her. Xavier on the other hand…"

Monica sat down and patted the seat next to her; which Aaron plopped down in, they're heads were bent close to each other; and Monica was _still _giggling at Aaron's toe-dally _nawt _funny jokes. Cory sighed, knowing this would be a very long, very third-wheel-y type of evening for her.

It seemed like Sutton's carefully crafted plan was working out perfectly; and Cory surprised herself by wishing it hadn't.

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it! I know, it wasn't too exciting or anything, but I was building up for the next action-packed chapter! Oh, I'd still LOVE LOVE LOVE new OCs! PLEASE send them in for me! <strong>

**For this chapter, I'd like to hear something your characters HATES, like they absolutely LOATHE it. Please tell me and it would help a lot! Feel free to PM me with suggestion, and new OCs are welcome! 'Til the next chapter, toodles xoxo**


	7. Mystery Gossiper

**Sorry for the slow update! High School gets in the way :( Keep adding characters, if your's isn't in yet, it will be...all the usual.**

**But I have a question for you ah-mazing readers! Okay, you know the site DeviantART, right? Well, if any of you have an account and are good at drawing people, or are just artistic, please PM or review telling me your username on that site and I'd loooove to have like a title-cover of the five girls. PLEASE PM IF YOU LIKE TO DRAW! It would really be nice to have a picture of the five of them, so people could visualize what they look like, please spread the word to any other artists out there!**

**I know, super long AN, and this has some boy action to make for the lack of it in earlier chaps: READ AND REVIEW!**

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><p>Sutton surveyed herself <em>one <em>last time in the full-length, locker-room mirror. Her maroon OCD Cheerleading sweats were at a comfy-slash-cute fit; while her Cheerleader-issued T-shirt was navy blue, hugged her curves in an athletic way, and had the word "Co-Captain" scrolled across the chest in a maroon, swirly font. She put a hand to her head and made sure her super-tight, super-short ponytail was holding up. It looked sleek and professional—just the way Sutton wanted to feel.

"Mwah," she blew herself a glossy kiss in the mirror and turned on her black Puma tennis shoes.

Her heart was higher than the tip of her ponytail; cheerleading was her _thing_. For two hours and thirty minutes, three times a week, Sutton was in her cuhm-plete and toe-dal happy place; she flipped, cart-wheeled and stunted like a crazy acrobat…and the alpha loved every minute of it.

She was moving at a slow saunter, her thin hips swaying with effortless strides—which, of course, takes the most effort of all. Her large eyes surveyed the area right next to the grassy field, where three or four maroon-and-navy clad cheerleaders where setting down their LeSportsac duffel bags.

One popped her head up and recognized Sutton, "_Heeey_, Co-Captain!" she cried, waving her arms frantically.

Sutton seethed at being called "Co-Captain". Her and Fallon Connor shared the title—but Sutton knew that Fallon only got the title because the not-quite-alpha would burst into dramatic tears if she didn't. Puh-lease.

She walked closer and recognized the spaz-waver as Aria Mohundro; the dark-haired cheerleading/cross-country star. Aria was also Sutton's closest friend on her cheer squad.

"Hey, Aria!" Sutton giggled at her friend's over-hyper greeting.

"Oh my God," Aria stood in front of the alpha while she re-tied her laces, "My aunt just told me that your friend…Cecilia?" the dark-haired girl tapped her chin twice, "Yeah, her! She's one of the nominees for Most Scholarly Student in this year's year book!"

Nawt only was Aria _im_possible to dislike, she was the principal's niece. Correction: The principal's _favorite _niece. Which meant that she got to hear _awl _about super-secret-only-teachers-get-to-know-about-it things that the student body didn't _dare _to know about.

It made Sutton feel exclusive times fifty.

"Cecilia _is _a brainiac." Sutton licked her finger and held it up to make sure the wind wasn't too strong—blasting wind equals tangled hair. And _no _self-respecting girl wants that.

Aria looked confused at Sutton's lack of squealing for her BFF. But Cecilia winning brainiac awards wasn't something new. It was like Elle getting _another _guy's number; or Cory making _another _sports team. These things were a way of life.

Sutton was about to explain her reaction to the bubbly girl, but was stopped by a loud whistle. All the girls working on their warm-up stretches looked around in irritation; until they saw who it was—and what they were lugging with them.

"Ready? Okay!" Fallon's ah-noying mock-cheer carried across the grass-lined quad, "I'm here, girls!" she air-kissed each of them, still standing at least ten feet away.

"Well, duh," Sutton muttered, feeling a Fallon-induced headache coming on. The girls around her tittered into their well-manicured hands, making no effort to _actually_ cover up the laughter.

If Fallon heard the exchange, she didn't show it, "You're all going to luhh-ve me for this!" she stumbled forward, almost tripping over the three Louis Vuitton suitcases she was toting.

Sutton rushed forward to help her, making sure her teammates knew how _sweet _and _helpful _she was, "Here, Fallon! Let me help with those." She widened her eyes sweetly and grabbed two bags, meeting her rival's eyes with faux kindness.

"Thanks?" Fallon sounded unsure.

"No prob, Bob!" Sutton chirped; gently placing the cases on the freshly-cut grass. She relished the feeling of knowing her biggest opponent was scared of her sudden kindness. The alpha didn't exactly know why she was "killing Fallon with kindness"…but it seemed to make Fallon uncomfortable, and that was enough for Sutton!

"_Any_way," Fallon faced the team with her hands clasped behind her back; her wavy blonde ponytail was directly in between her sharp shoulder blades, "I was in my ninety-nine degree, lavender-bubble infused hot tub with Ali last Thursday." She set the stage for the girls, "And I was thinking: Our outfits are _so _outdated! I mean, come _awn_! Black Reebok _tennis shoes_?" What are we, in the _disco _age?" she paused, but everyone either looked bored or offended.

Sutton turned to Aria and tapped her palm against her reflective lips. Aria giggled, winked, and popped her gum to show Sutton she ah-greed.

Fallon sent them a glare, "We need something updated. Classy but fun, right?" a few girls nodded; that was enough for Fallon, "Well, my cheer sisters, _say hello to my little friends_!" Fallon said in a very Tony Montana-ish way, while whipping the suitcases open.

Half the girls rushed to the opened suitcase, while the other half surveyed Sutton's expression and stayed put; bored looks on their freshly made-up faces.

Even thought we _all _know they were really just _dying _to get a look at the new fabric.

"Ahhhhhhhh!" Liz Barton—another mistake on the squad…according to Sutton—squealed, holding a piece of fabric up to her A-cups and grinning like mad, "I was the first one to get a new outfit! Ha ha ha ha ha!" she repeated the cheer a few times, her heat-damaged hair flopping in and out of her face; like cheap tent flaps.

Fallon almost blocked out the sun with her pearly grin, "Aren't they just ah-mazing? Ali and I designed them ourselves."

Aria pushed a lock of hair from her face and glided forward—a bored expression replaced her usually bubbly personality, "Thanks." Her voice was flat as she accepted the uniform Fallon thrust at her.

Sutton thanked _Gawd _Aria was so ah-mazing. Now she could properly survey the outfit without looking like a toe-dal LBR.

With a few more swings of her narrow hips, Aria was back at her side; holding a metallic/sequined/maroon monstrosity. A thigh-high skirt, incrusted with sequins, set just below the girls' pert butts—if they flipped the wrong way…_boom_, flash central! A sleeveless corset top in a metallic shade of maroon made them look wasp-waisted.

Which is a good thing, right?

Navy, flat booties rounded out the look; the pair of swishy pom-poms—same color as the shoes—was the only "traditional" piece of clothing they would be wearing.

Sutton felt like she might barf…or faint. Or both. Nawt even _Whitney _would be seen wearing something so ahb-viously flasher-like. She glanced around at the other girls, waiting to see them smirk-roll their eyes, or stick their finger mockingly down their throat. But everywhere she looked—given, Aria was still glaring at Fallon—she saw excited faces and toothy grins.

Ehma_fashiondisaster_!

A rush of alpha energy flowed through Sutton's veins; that force drove her to force a fake smile, stalk over to Fallon, loop her arm through the other girl's, and walk slowly to a shaded tree yards away from the rest of the group—who were _still _fawning over the new uniforms!

Fallon smoothed her perfectly straight shirt and glowered at Sutton, "What, darling, couldn't take defeat with your head held high?"

Sutton smirked, feeling rage bubble up in her chest, "No, _dah-ling_," she mimicked Fallon's baby-time, "Why would I hang my head if I'm _winning_? The only thing I happen to be irritated about is that you got new outfits…without consulting me! We're _co_-captains! Co!"

"I just figured since you _always _take care of our outfits, it would be nice for me to return the favor."

For a split-second, Sutton almost felt bad for calling Fallon out on the uniforms; and the she remembered…Fallon was an actress. And a good one too, she had grudgingly admit.

"Keep your charity for the Salvation Army." Sutton pivoted on her waxed heel, giving Fallon a full view of her swinging hips as she sauntered away.

Even though the alpha was _so _done with the convo seconds ago, she couldn't shove away the last bits of doubt in her head: What if the girls thought _Fallon _was in charge because she picked an outfit? Would _Sutton _put the "be" in "wannabe"? She felt her Nutella-coated wheat toast coming back up her throat at thought of her being a—LBR.

When she made her way to the girls, they were yelling to see who could "project" their voice the loudest—which basically screaming "GO TOMAHAWKS!" with their hands cupped around their mouths. Sutton relaxed slightly; these girls _needed _her to stay pretty, talented, and fashionable.

And who doesn't want to be pretty, talented, and fashionable?

Aria stopped yelling when she caught sight of Sutton, "Hey, did—"

Sutton gave her a stop-talking-I'll-tell-you-later look, "Girls!" she double-clapped for good measure, "Give me your attention, puh-lease!" eventually, the girls quieted down and looked at their (favorite) co-captain with wide eyes.

"Girls, I've been thinking about some things…" she trailed off dramatically, a brilliant plan hatching in her alpha brain, and watched her teammates' faces go blank, "I don't know if all _awl _of you are committed to this squad."

"I am!" Liz shouted, biting her lower lip, "Please, please, please don't kick me out!" her dull eyes started to water.

"I'm nawt going to kick you out, Liz." Sutton rolled her violet eyes, "It's just…I feel like we're nawt a family. We just work together and go home. That's all."

"But you always tell me never to talk to you when there are other people arou—" one of the girls tried to point out.

"Uh, did you guys here something?" Sutton spoke over the girl; hearing that their own _captain _wouldn't let a teammate talk to her in the hallway probably wouldn't help her chances at gaining the support of her cheer-betas.

"I think I _did _hear something," Aria picked an imaginary piece of lint off of her shoulder.

"Probably just the wind or something," Sutton winked her thanks to Aria, "Anyway, Fallon _really _took it too far when she never even tried to consult me on the new uniforms! She toe-dally left me hanging. And I don't think _that's _making the team feel like a family." As the girls nodded their agreement. Sutton met Fallon's large eyes and smiled slowly; letting the other Captain know _exactly _who was the better actress.

Fallon might have won the girls over with slutty outfits—but Sutton was about to win the gold medal in keeping her ah-mazing place at the top.

::

"She did _what_?" Elle shoved her fat-free latte onto the bamboo table and stared at Sutton, eyes wide.

Sutton took a rejuvenating sip of her English-toffee cappuccino, letting the smooth liquid warm her throat, "She tried to give the team new uniforms without consulting me. Whatevs, though—she's probably wallowing at home this very moment!"

The five girls shared a round of high-fives and pressed their coffee-based drinks together.

Yumi's head suddenly shot to the left, "Ehmagawd, girls! Look _who _it is!" she pointed to a dark-haired, skinny kid sitting two tables down them.

"Is he _taking a picture _of his own coffee?" Cecilia put a hand to her mouth and softly giggled.

Sure enough, the boy was holding his out-dated camera phone to the plastic, Starbucks cup and clicking the "picture" button repeatedly.

"Oh, look, its Cory's _boy_friend!" Elle cackled her distinct, short-laugh that everyone loved.

"He's nawt my boyfriend…" Cory mumbled, redness creeping into her cheeks.

It was no secret that Evan Knight, the kid Sutton was now smiling slyly at, had a _huh-yuge _crush on the sporty blonde. Every Valentine's Day for the past three years, he had given her an assorted bag of words hearts saying thing like "Will U Be Mine" and "I Love U". It would have been nerdy-cute for someone like Xavier or Aaron to do—but Evan _was _a nerd. The biggest guy-nerd at Briarwood.

So, for Evan, "nerdy-cute" turned into "stalker-freak".

"Come _awn_, Cor, lighten up!" Sutton stood from her wicker chair and smoothed her champagne-colored tunic top, making sure it hit mid-thigh, "We're _girls_. And what do girls always want to do?"

"Have fun."

"So…" Sutton raised her eyebrows at Cecilia, Elle and Yumi.

"_Let's have fun!" _they squealed.

Sutton touched her curly chignon, "Good thing we dressed nicely for Starbucks and mani-pedis." She swept a final coat of gloss on her already-pink lips and turned to the girls, "Always look good, girls. You never know who you might run in to." And with that, her small, leather-boot clad feet marched across the faux-wood floor in perfect steps.

Evan was now leaning forward in his chair, intently reading a comic book. A guy in Spandex tights was trying to pummel a half-spider, half-human guy—Sutton knew how the Tight Guy felt…sometimes she wanted to do the same to Fallon.

The alpha positioned herself right behind Evan and let out a short giggle, making sure two loose curls fell into her hair innocently.

The nerd whipped around, almost knocking his thick-framed glasses off his face. Right when he saw Sutton, his cheeks turned bright red and his light blue eyes widened, "Uh, hi…" he stammered, stuffing his comic book into his dark blue Jansport backpack.

"Hey, Evan!" Sutton stepped slightly aside so Cory was fully in view; Evan smiled immediately, hope clear on his face.

"W-what are you girls doing here?" his voice was crackly, like a radio station you can't quite pick up, because he hadn't _quite _hit puberty yet.

Meaning he didn't even have the looks to make for his lack of coolness.

"Oh, you know, the usual: Quick coffee run, manicures, pedicures…I'm sure you know all about it." She winked at him slowly, feeling like a fearless goddess. Even around nerdy guys, she _luh-ved _the feeling of flirting—nawt as much as Elle…but enough.

He gulped, "Okay." His cherry-red face turned to Cory again, "Are…are you trying out for the Summer Tennis League this year?"

Evan was so red, he looked in danger of fainting; Cecilia stood poised to call the cashier…just in case he suddenly flopped to the ground.

Cory twirled her Trina Turk cardigan strings, looking awkward, "Yeah, I am! I try out every year, actually."

While Cory and Evan looked anywhere but each other in an uncomfortable silence, Sutton noticed her chance to do something _everyone _would remember.

"Hey, girls," she winked at Cecilia, Yumi and Elle, "Wasn't Cory just _raving _about how _ah-dorable _smart guys are?" she knew it was slightly mean to put Cory on the spot—but come _awn_, what else are best friends for?

While Cory slid her hand across her throat, telling the girls to _stawp_, Elle, Yumi and Cecilia nodded their heads frantically; silent laughter bubbling behind their shiny lips.

Evan perked up, "You like smart guys?" he mumbled to his cuticles.

Cory looked dumbfounded, "Uh…"

"Well, _I _like _strong _guys!" a fake-girl voice sounded from a few feet away.

Sutton, feeling annoyed at her intruders, snapped her head around to get a nice, evil-eye in—when she realized it was Xavier, Liam, Tyler, and Alex. They all looked comfy-cute in different colors of Reebok/Nike/Adidas basketball shorts, and light, white crew-neck tops. Sutton guessed they were Haynes.

"You like guys?" Yumi gasped, pulling out her second phone.

"Nawt really…he was joking." Cecilia put a hand on Yumi's tanned arm and gave her a sympathetic look, "Too bad, that would have been interesting gossip."

Xavier narrowed his eyes at them, probably wondering why they were talking about him, but the two girls only shared a silent-giggle-filled glance and turned back to Sutton.

"Are you guys stalking us or something?" the alpha was flirt-asking the guys.

"Yeah," Liam ran a hand through his sweaty but ah-dorable sandy-blonde hair, "But don't be worried…we only follow the best." His voice was low and _very _manly.

"If you're trying to hit on us, at _least _compliment our clothes or something. Tell us we're "number one" isn't exactly making me feel special, if you know what I mean!" Elle hooted from next to Tyler.

Tyler's eyes went wide when they slid to Elle's black pencil skirt, "We'll try harder." His voice was sweet and kind.

"Promise?" Elle brushed a strand of strawberry-blonde hair from her forehead and jutted her hips out, displaying her curvy-but-slim body.

"Promise." Tyler's shyness was ah-dorable! They were opposites; Elle would talk and laugh and flirt, while Tyler smiled and spread his sweetness behind the scenes—they would be perfect together! Elle luh-ved him already.

Xavier kept asking Yumi what her and Cecilia had been talking about; but every time he asked, Yumi would press her fingers together, run them across her full lips, and pretend to throw away a key. Even Xavier had to admit Yumi looked cute keeping a secret from him.

"Hey, Cory," Xavier suddenly yelled, "We should have a basketball game, how about this Thursday? Two-on-two. You and Alex, against Liam and I! The three of us have been wanting to play for a while; and Tyler's more of a lacrosse person."

"You play basketball?" Alex nudged her lightly with his hip.

"Give me a sequined jersey and I'll play against Michael Jordan any day!" he laughed and they high-fived. Cory felt electric crush-rays jolt through her arm and vanish into her heart.

Looks like _someone's _getting a slam dunk this Thursday.

"Alright, girls, we've got mani-pedis scheduled in twenty minutes. We _have _to get there early…you know how the old ladies at the spa _always _try and lay in _our _chairs." The five of them shivered at the thought of old ladies getting their toenails clipped before they sat in the chair.

"Are you always this punctual?" Liam smirked at her.

"It's nawt so much as to get there…just to _get away _from you amateurs." She raised her eyebrow, waiting for him to challenge her again.

The guys whooped and slapped Liam's back, while he not-so-subtly checked out Cecilia's butt her straight-legged jeans.

"Bye, boys!" Sutton blew them a kiss and walked out the front door, knowing Cecilia would be right behind her, and then Elle, then Cory, and Yumi would saunter out last, her dark hair fanning behind her.

As Cory swished past her brother and his toe-dally ten friends, she realized something: Evan had disappeared while she'd been flirting. No, she didn't like him in any other way than a friend…but she couldn't shake the feeling that Evan might not like her as much anymore—and that bothered her more than she cared to admit.

::

Yumi sighed and padded across her calm-inspiring bedroom. Everything was designed to make you feel serene and simple; the gentle green of the walls, the pure-white canopy, the smell of lavender oil coming from the bathroom.

But nuh-thing could keep the dark-haired beta calm when her sister's ah-noying music was blasting through the wall between their bedrooms.

Yumi just didn't have the energy to tell her sister that the music sounded like a cat dying; she was in a good mood—having just been exfoliated from head to toe in the spa—and, besides, she needed to get on IM and ask Sutton about the latest Monica-news.

So she pulled a pair of puffy earmuffs from her cream-white drawer and snapped them over her tiny ears. Walking clumsily over to the white laptop—having toe-dividers _really _doesn't help you move gracefully—she flipped open the top and immediately saw a new e-mail in her inbox.

She scrolled over to the sender and frowned—someone named "xoxo957" had sent her a message. But Yumi clicked the e-mail anyway; she _is _the gossip expert of the group. If she can't find a new rumor before _anyone _else, who can?

**To: GossipGirl55**

**From: xoxo957**

**Re: Hey, Yumi. Yeah, I know your name. And I also know something else about you: That you love gossip. And lucky for me and you, I have some…and it's juicy. Alright, you know the infamous heartbreaker Monica, right? Of course you do, who doesn't? Well, I heard she's finally met her match. That kid she likes now, whatever his name is, he likes someone else. Don't know who. Don't know why. But he does. Maybe Sutton doesn't even have a chance at getting you girls into this party. But, then again, I've been wrong before…I think. Don't bother asking who I am, I don't give away information for free. Oh, and don't mention this to Monica, Sutton, or anyone else. This is our little secret—for now. Remember, my little gossiper, even diamonds have their flaws…and so does everyone else, even Monica…**

Yumi read the e-mail over and over again, feeling important and scared all at once: Important because she was the _only _who knew this little secret…that Monica might nawt get the guy she wanted. And scared for the same reasons.

What if Monica found out? What if she _ruined _Yumi? What if Yumi became a…LBR? Sutton, Cecilia, Elle and Cory would _hate _her! She wouldn't have friends, a social life—

Her frantic thoughts were interrupted by her twin's music hitting a loud note and her mother could be heard yelling from down the hall.

Yumi twirled her hair into a low bun, slipping on satin, pink pajamas. The goose-feather pillow felt good against her tension-lined neck.

Then she realized something: Gossip was her _life_. It made her who she was. It got her a special spot in her own clique. Even if this was something that included Sutton, it was gossip. And she knew, better than anyone else, how to deal with these types of things.

So without any further thinking, she whipped out her phone, clicked "Send to all" and typed up a quick message.

"Let's see how you handle _that_, Mystery Gossiper." She snuggled tightly into her bed, feeling better and more refreshed then she had in days, "You might be the Princess of gossip—but _I'm _the Queen. And nobody forgets that."

* * *

><p><strong>Ooooh, a new twist! Again, plllleaaase keep giving me new OCs, and please review new ideas for the story! Please tell me if your character isn't in the story yet. <strong>

**So for this chap: Give me your OC's best friend. It has to be another character, like who they're the CLOSEST with out of everyone. I mean, come awn, even a Clique has girls that are closer to each other than others. Thanks for reading and ask your DeviantART pals if they can draw something for me!**

**Until next time, READ AND REVIEW!**


	8. Phase Two

**I AM SO SORRY FOR SLACKING! High school is so stupid! Plus, I had writer's block...which sucks! This chapter is shorter, and kind of rambly. But only but because all the action happens in the next one. I promise!**

**To anyone who I kept waiting, I am so sorry! Please read and enjoy the latest chapter to this story!**

* * *

><p><em>They know I'm keeping a secret<em>.

The thought kept swirling through Yumi's head like a butterfly on Red Bull. She checked her already-perfect nails to make sure they were chip free, smoothed her glossy side-part until nawt even a tornado could mess it up, crossed her bell-fringed, tan moccasin boots over one another, but her eyes _always _wandered nervously back to her friends.

Sutton was tapping her nails on the frosted glass table, reading a text. Elle was flipping through the newest issue of _Teen Vogue_. Cory sat on Elle's left, _ooh_ing and _ahh_ing at the designer outfits Elle was pointing out. And Cecilia was on Elle's right, next to Yumi, twirling a piece of hair around her finger while fixing the slogan for this year's Holiday Bash; the fabulous, yearly Christmas/New Year's party OCD threw every year.

Everyone _seemed _normal and calm, but Yumi knew that these girls could keep their feelings bottled up like a can of Coke. And if anything was even slightly shaken, they would start fizzing out of their air-packed cans.

And that would _nawt _be pretty.

"Uh, girls…" she cursed herself for sounding insecure, wasn't that feeling supposed to be reserved for LBRs?

The answer was yes.

"Yeah, Yumi?" Sutton prompted.

She looked around the lunch table nervously, seeing nothing but warmth and trust in her friend's eyes. They wouldn't be so sure about trusting her if they knew she was hiding a huh-yuge secret…

The words left her mouth in a burst, "Well, I was on the computer last night and—"

"_Hey, _ladies!" someone purred from next to their designated table.

_Speak of the Devil! _Yumi cringed, turning around to face Monica. Monica stood, her hair pulled into a ballerina bun, while Monique stood behind her, arms crossed, eyes bored. The beta suddenly locked eyes with Yumi…and winked.

The gesture was so blasé that Yumi couldn't even be sure it _happened_. She decided to turn back to Sutton and Monica and listen to the alphas' intense convo.

"Well?" Sutton's eyes were wide and curious, "How did _it_ go?"

"It?" Monica cocked an eyebrow.

Sutton looked at Cory and rolled her eyes, making everyone gasp at Sutton's confidence.

"You know," Sutton spoke like Monica was a hearing-impaired eight-year-old, "Your _date _with _Aaron_?"

"Shh!" Monica hissed, placing one finger to her lips, "Nawt _everyone _needs to know about that!"

Sutton smirked, "Why? He's just another victim of your microscopic attention span. We _awl _know you'll done, done, and done by next Thursday."

Monica looked like she was going to shove Sutton's turkey burger up her pert nose, but she was stopped by Principal Bunkelman—a large, red-faced woman who over-abused wearing camo prints—huffed to a stop next to them.

"Girls," she wheezed, her chin rolls gathering on her flushed neck as she grabbed for a tissue somewhere in her no-brand-name jeans pocket, "I—" she held up a finger and gasped for breath, delicately dabbing her sweaty face with the hankie she had just found.

"Uh, Principal Bunkelman," Sutton was starting to wonder if she should be dialing 911_, stat! _"Did you run all the way from your office?"

The older woman managed a nod.

Sutton widened her eyes at her friends, Monica and Monique. What could have been so important that Principal Bunkelman _moved faster than a snail _to get to them? Sutton decided World War Three must have started. That was the only explanation.

"I am _nawt _signing up for the army!" she cried, suddenly realizing what the principal wanted, "Me plus bulky uniform plus boot camp training equals opposite of a good idea!"

Principal Bunkelman gave her a _what-are-you-talking-about? _look_, _"I don't…want you to join the army, girls. I'm here for Cecilia. The student council wants to see you for some award."

Cecilia looked curious, "What kind of award—"

"I don't know!" Principal Bunkelman cut her off, waving her pudgy hand into the air, "And I honestly don't care! But they wanted me to give it to you personally…so here." She thrust the small certificate into Cecilia's orange-and-lilac moisturized hand, "'Bye, girls!" she huffed, plowing through the throng of kids waiting to get their food.

"Um, I think she was in a hurry." Monica raised an eyebrow, earning a laugh from everyone.

"Maybe she was just _dying _to get back to those Hershey's bars we know she has stashed under her desk," Elle slapped her hand against the table and cracked up at her own joke.

"Hey, wait!" Sutton snapped her fingers, "You never answered my question; how was your date with Aaron? Did it go okay? Does he like you?" for a minute, she felt like a toe-dal LBR for begging for info. But then she remembered that _Monica _was the one who needed her.

And that made her feel ten times better.

Monica scratched the tip of her ski-slope nose, deep in thought, "It went nicely." She finally decided, finishing the statement with a crisp nod of her head.

Sutton internally wiped her forehead; thanking Gawd that Phase One of the plan had been as smooth as her hands after a spa-waxing treatment.

"But," the eighth-grade alpha spoke up again, "We've only flirted. Nuh-thing relationship-worthy came out of that little meeting. Plus, he was picking up his little _sister_," she said "little sister" like someone less worthy might say "rotten eggs". "He wasn't actually coming to see me personally. And that brings us directly into Phase Two." With a quick snap of her lean fingers, Monica leaned in secretively to the rest of the girls, "Phase Two is _awl _about getting him to notice _moi_." She put a hand to her chest.

"Notice what about you?" Cory popped a fry into her mouth.

Elle gasped, "Cory," she stage-whispered, "You _know _those disgusting, café fries add, like, ten pounds to your figure!" the strawberry-blonde girl pinched her non-existent stomach fat and stared at Cory with widened eyes.

Sutton rolled her eyes at the exchange and waved her hand in a circular motion to let Monica know she should _get on with it_.

"Sorry," Cory said, looking half-amused and half-annoyed; Elle only glanced at the fries one last time and then started to listen.

Monica smiled fondly, "I need him to ask me on a _real _date. Nawt just some _oh-hey-you-happen-to-be-near-my-sister _thing; he has to be legitimately interested in me. No _if_s, _and_s, or _but_s."

Vague, much? Sutton had _no_ idea how to make Aaron ask Monica out, "But how am I supposed to—"

"Didn't I just say no _but_s about it?" at Sutton's betrayed look, Monica put a moisturized hand on the younger alpha's cashmere-clad shoulder, "You can do it, darling. You're Sutton Minchew." With a quick hair-flip, she and her beta were off to take on the rest of OCD—and maybe the world.

Sutton felt like ripping her Pantene deep-conditioned hair right out of her head. Why did Monica have to be a class-A jerk? And then suddenly turn into Glenda the Good Witch in the flesh!

"Sutton," Yumi spoke up from the other side of the table, "About what I was going to tell you earlier—"

"Nawt now, Yumi." Sutton wasn't exactly in the mood to hear about how some girl farted in the locker room; or any other type of gossip Yumi had to offer. She was too absorbed in making a mental-checklist of things that attracted Aaron to care about anything else.

"Oh…" Yumi looked down at her fat-free blueberry-covered frozen yogurt.

Cecilia—known for picking up on her friend's moods quickly—spoke up, "It's almost time for third hour." she adjusted her lavender scarf so it hung perfectly on both shoulders, "And if we don't get going, we'll be _going _to detention!"

Elle and Cory nodded, picking up their bags and stuffing their lunches into the eco-friendly trash bags next to them. Sutton only sniffed, looking down at her phone intently; while Yumi gave Cecilia a grateful smile and stood gracefully from the table.

The four betas exchanged an affectionate glance. Sutton may be acting cold and a little paranoid, but they knew she was doing it to keep them at the top. She was being an alpha, and sometimes you had to be a leader before you could be nice.

But Yumi still felt the weight of her secret sitting on her chest like deep-fried KFC. And she couldn't stop the feeling that someone was watching her—closely.

::

"Time to address the second part of this plan." Sutton kicked her fuzzy-sock covered feet on Elle's lap and took another giant bite of raw cookie dough from the metal scooper poised above the bowl. The five girls were having their annual Saturday night sleepover at Cory's house…for obvious reasons. After stress-thinking all of Thursday, Friday, and half of the morning, Sutton had come up with the perfect plan.

To reward herself for the hard work, she was stuffing herself with unhealthy, comfort food. She had made the girls pinky-swear they would _neh-ver _eat this much again; and that were taking extra cardio workout sessions for the next month. But a job well-done was a job well-done, and no one knew that better than Sutton herself.

Cecilia finished braiding a piece of Cory's hair, and they both looked over expectantly. Elle came back from Sutton's mini-fridge with a can of Mountain Dew in her hand—diet of course. Sutton wasn't willing to bend on _everything_. Everyone was staring at her with wide eyes.

Sutton took a deep breath and started, "Aaron is into sports, right?"

Cory nodded, "He loves them, he'd marry any sport if he had the chance!"

"Let's hope he doesn't marry anything…for Monica's sake." Yumi remarked slyly.

"He even likes track and field?" Cecilia scrunched her nose up in distain at the sport.

"Even that," Cory said seriously.

"Well, now that we're _sure _he luh-ves sports ah-lot; we can be sure my plan will work!" Sutton clapped excitedly.

"It would be nice to _know _the plan." Elle murmured to Cecilia, who smirked, but never glanced away from her alpha.

Sutton couldn't wait to wipe those smug smiles off her friends' faces. At first she had planned to make her finalized scheme drawn-out and witty; but she realized the best thing to do would be just to spill the info like uncontrollable diarrhea. So that's what she did, "Monica's going to be a cheerleader!" she squealed, waiting for her friends to jump and down and praise Sutton her ability to fix _anything_.

But when she looked from zit-free face to zit-free face, all she saw was a mixture of confusion, doubt, and worry.

"Well…?" her LBR senses were tingling; awkward silences and even more awkward glances were _nawt _good by any means.

"Well…" Cory was the first to speak; "It's sort of…" she trailed off, fingering the braid Cecilia had given her.

Elle cleared her throat, "Wouldn't Monica hate you for making her join something she's nawt even into?"

"And," Cecilia piped up, "You wouldn't be the alpha of cheer anymore. Monica would try and take over your territory!" she looked at Sutton in disbelief, "Doesn't that bother you?"

Sutton remained calm, her face only turning more and more relaxed by each second, "There are simple solutions to over-thought-out problems. Although I like it that you were analyzing each step; making sure nuh-thing was wrong—you were a little off, but let me explain."

The girls all stared in awe at Sutton's ability to turn the situation so _she _was in charge. Of course, that's what alphas do. And they all suddenly felt lucky times a billion that she was their alpha; and that they were her best friends.

"First off, you have a point Cory." She looked at the athletic blonde coolly, "Monica isn't really into cheerleading, so it might seem odd that I want her to start cheering. But you forgot one little thing: Monica likes Aaron. He's older, wiser, hotter, and _harder _to get with than any other guy she's ever gone out with before. It's all about the chase; and, trust me; your brother is one of the hardest to catch up to. She's nawt desperate, but she wants him. And that's enough."

Cory nodded, understanding washing over her face like a waterfall.

Sutton then turned to Cecilia, "You have a good reason for being suspicious too. _Buuut_, you didn't think one thing through: OCD has two cheer teams. One is for competitive cheer—the only acceptable kind of cheer, may I add—and the other is for girls who want to be with the guys all the time. Aka, sporting cheer. And that's the one Monica is going to join. So I'll be the alpha of the cheering that _matters_, Monica will flip and flirt to her heart's content, and she'll get Aaron in the end. Plus, I'm still an alpha. Done, done, and done."

With a victory flip of her chestnut hair, Sutton picked up a bottle of Smart Water, tilted it toward her Burt's Bees-coated lips, and watched as the sunny yellow of the water met her lips in glistening waves. This was one of the times where she felt one hundred percent alpha. Her loyal, ah-some betas trusted and admired her, and she had found a solution to a _big _problem.

"Okay, girls," Sutton giggled, feeling light and free, "Now that the seriousness is over, let's have some fun!"

Someone's phone started blasting "I'm Sexy and I Know It" from over in the corner. Everyone started cracking up, trying to figure out whose phone it was.

"Don't hate, appreciate!" Elle bounded over to the LG touch screen phone and opened a text with ah-mazing speed. Her eyes were glued to the screen for a minute, getting wider and wider until they looked like they might burst out of her head.

"I have to know this!" Yumi let her dancer's body twist into a pirouette across the room, landing right next to Elle.

"Here," Elle shoved the phone toward Yumi, letting the dark-haired read it. When she was done reading, Yumi was bouncing up and down in her seat like she had to pee.

Cecilia and Cory stood slightly behind Sutton, glancing at her warily. They were probably regretting nawt reaching Elle first and reading the text; but Sutton was just happy that they were still at her side, waiting to see what she was going to do.

"Alright," Sutton said, her voice neutral, "Tell us, we don't want you to die because you were hyperventilating over a text."

"You might just have a heart attack when you read what he just sent Elle!" Yumi covered her small mouth and let out a muffled squeal, "He's ah-dorable!"

"Oh, so it's a 'he'," Cecilia used air-quotes for the last word, going cross-eyed at Cory to show how odd she thought Elle and Yumi were acting over this.

Sutton fought the urge to laugh along with Cory, but decided on just staying still faced, "So…"

"It's Tyler. Tyler Manson! You know, the cute one from Briarwood," Elle started excitedly.

"We know who he is, Elle." Sutton said calmly.

"Okay, good!" the beta didn't seem to be affected by anything other than her speech, "Well, he just texted me—"

"We got that, already," Cecilia muttered. Yumi stuck her tongue out at her, Sutton bit back a giggle.

"—and it said…oh, here, just look!" she shoved the phone at her other three BFFs.

**Sent from: Tyler Manson**

**Hey, Elle ;) Just making sure you still remember me. I'm with my friends and they mentioned you and your group. You guys seem pretty cool…and cute. All the guys agree we should hang out soon or something. Well, bye!**

Sutton had to smile to herself; the text was kind of cheesy, forced, and a _tad _too flirty for her expert taste, but it was still cute. Plus, nawt only did it make Elle happy, it included Sutton in the invite!

She wasn't desperate or anything. But cute, nice guys are hard to find…especially a package deal; so all of your friends can have one.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Sutton handed Elle her phone back, "Text him back! Make plans! But be subtle. And sexy."

"How can I be sexy through the phone?"

"I don't know, just do it!"

As the girls spent the rest of the night texting, gossiping, and getting ready to enroll a new cheerleader in OCD's sport squad, Sutton felt her heart lift inside her Victoria's Secret Pink pajama T-shirt; so what if she had to be Monica's little dating service for a while? She was about to get a boy of her own! Take _that_!

But wherever boys are involved, there's bound to be drama. And _no one _knows that better than an alpha…

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><p><strong>See what I mean? But, the action is coming up in the next chap! Okay, I really need you guys to answer this: In your review, give me your OC's weakness. It can be anything: Chocolate (ugh, that is totally mine!) prone to anger fits...I don't know! Just something they would rather nawt have held against them. Please tell me his in your review!<strong>

**Alright, thanks for reading, and I'll be back soon ;)**


	9. Finders, Keepers

**I have no excuses. I'm so sorry for taking forever to update. To all of you who stayed faithful to me...I love you so much! I'll update a lot more, I promise. Just please read and enjoy; even though this chap isn't very exciting until the end.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Clique, sadly.**

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><p>"It smells like sweat out here!"<p>

"We're outside...on a football field, and the soccer team is, like, fifty feet away from us. How can _the natural air _smell like sweat, Cecilia?" Sutton snapped at the petite beta.

"I don't know, okay?" Cecilia mumbled, her cheeks turning slightly pink at Sutton's irritated tone.

Sutton rolled her Revlon-lined eyes, feeling heat creep up her neck. Cecilia's "Ehmagawd-I-Hate-Anything-To-Do-With-Body-Odor" attitude was driving her up the wall. Couldn't her friends just be patient for a few minutes? For the past half an hour that they'd been standing on the field, all the girls could do was complain. Sure, Monica was late. Sure, it was frigid outside. And, sure, the soccer coach's high-pitched whistle was a constant ringing in her diamond-studded ear; but did they _have _to be so…dramatic?

Wait, _Sutton _is talking about _someone else _being dramatic?

That's like the cheap perfume calling the mom jeans tacky.

After a few Zen-inspired deep breaths, Sutton was ready for a few more minutes of pretending to ignore the constant crabbiness of her friends. And it worked…for a few more minutes.

Then Elle opened her mouth.

"If you ask me," she whispered, tilting her head to the side innocently, "Monica is abusing Sutton. She said she would be here at three o'clock. What time is it? Oh yeah, it's three thirty. And Sutton is just _taking _it! She would neh-ver let anyone else do this to her."

Sutton whirled around; her perfect, no-hair-out-of-place fishtail braid swung against her shoulder blades, "Ex-cuh-yuse me, Elle? Did you have something to say to my _face_? Or are you just going to insult me behind my back?"

Elle looked helplessly at the rest of the girls for help, but no one offered any type of reassurance—Yumi was bouncing nervously from foot to foot, Cory had whipped out a notebook in two seconds flat, and was now reading the contents of it intently, and Cecilia was thoughtfully twirling a curl around her finger, staring into the distance. Elle was cuhm-pletely alone on this one.

"Um…" she stuttered, looking anywhere but Sutton's venom-filled violet eyes, "No…" but something seemed to change in the strawberry-blonde's posture, her chin snapped up and she locked eyes with the alpha, "Wait, yeah I do have something to say. Why are we just waiting here? Why haven't we left yet? Monica is _thirty _minutes late, Sutton! A whole half hour! She's just being rude—and you're playing right into her game! You're doing whatever she wants. Sutton, you are one of the best alphas _ever_, and you never let anyone step all over you! So why start now? Why let Monica win?"

The rest of the girls gasped, covering their mouths with their freshly manicured hands, wondering where their friend got the courage to speak to their alpha the way she was.

Sutton looked stunned for a few seconds, but it didn't last long. Her eyes darkened, and, if it was possible, she looked even _more _irked than before, "Listen, Elle," her normally high and clear voice was low and barely audible, "Our social future depends on this. Let me handle it, okay?"

"Hey, girls," Cecilia spoke softly, her eyes focused on something behind Yumi's head, "Talk about it later."

"Why—?"

"Monica's here." Cecilia's bright green eyes were oddly large; almost as if she sensed something bad was going to happen.

All the girls subtly tilting their zit-free faces to the left; and every one of them saw the tall, lean figure of a girl walking slowly across the lawn in their direction.

Sutton glanced over at Elle, taking in her beta's dejected expression; "Elle…thanks for caring. I know I'm not acting like myself, but I have to be like this until Monica's party is over. Then things will go back to normal."

Elle looked ready to throw her arms around Sutton in a huge hug, but Monica was suddenly right next to them; her face glowing with excitement. And, if the girls hadn't known the alpha better, they might have thought that the look in Monica's eyes was childlike.

But we all know that Monica is a perfect alpha, and that she isn't capable of being too excited. I mean, alphas don't do that. They can't act all excited; even if they _really _want to. They have to be ice-cold and calculating at all times…right?

"Are you ready?" Sutton's voice was clipped.

"_Someone _woke up on the wrong side of her goose-feather bed!" Monica redid her already-perfect ponytail, meeting Sutton's annoyed gaze with a playful smirk.

"I just want to get this over with. Who knew being a dating service would take so much effort?"

"You are _nawt _my dating service—"

"There's Coach Mullins," Sutton wrinkled her petite nose at the broad-shouldered, semi-manly coach. The entire school—including the teachers—were always debating on whether the coach was a lesbian or not; Sutton had decided long ago that Coach Mullins only _looked _manly. Nawt to mention Yumi had seen her making out with the AP Civics teacher…

But _that's _another story for another time.

"Ew," Yumi winced, probably remembering the tonguing session she'd had to witness.

Sutton turned to Monica, letting her moves become slow and lazy, "Well, go _talk _to her! She's your ticket to the squad…and to Aaron."

Monica gave Sutton a death glare, "I'm nawt going up her _alone_! You have to come with me!"

"So you need me?"

"Don't taunt me. I might need you to get Aaron, but you need me to have a _social _life." Monica's eyes were suddenly feral, like a cat ready to pounce.

"Whatever," Sutton knew that was just about the worst comeback ever, but Monica was as unpredictable as she was pretty…so Sutton was going to have to be prepared for anything.

Sutton was starting to wish Cory's _dear _older brother was never born.

::

"Do you guys think Monica's going to make the team?" Elle's voice broke the tense silence between the four girls and Monique.

"Um, _duh_!" Monique rolled her eyes, speaking up for the first time.

"You sound confident," Cecilia sounded bored.

Monique didn't seem aware of the icy glares the girls were giving her, "I am confident!" she peeked over her shoulder where Monica was laughing softly with the coach; Sutton stood to the side, her arms crossed loosely, looking like she'd rather be _anywhere _than where she was.

"Monica can charm anyone," Yumi breathed. She regretted the moment Cecilia and Cory both gave her furious, close-mouthed looks, "Nawt like it matters! I mean…she doesn't have Aaron yet, does she? She needs our help!"

Wow, should we just _give _her a shovel to dig with? Girl's definitely not getting out of that one…

Cecilia adjusted the bobby pin holding her curls away from her face and smiled, "What she means is; you can't get through life by just charming people, can you? That isn't any way to live! You have to work! So, in a roundabout way, Yumi was complimenting Monica! Telling you that because she needs a little help, she's doing the right thing."

"Yeah, that's what I meant." Yumi silently thanked her BFF for being so quick to catch on.

Monique's face turned into something like a smile, but not quite. "You know, Yumi," she said in a low voice, "You're kind of like me."

"We're both ah-mazing betas?" Yumi cocked her head; locks of dark hair fell over her shoulder.

"Sure," her voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. But she walked slowly toward Yumi, Jimmy Choo boots gently sinking into the emerald grass; and, soft enough for only Yumi's diamond-studded ears, she whispered something else: "And we _ah-dore _the latest gossip."

"So…should we go?" Cory was bouncing lightly on the soles of her feet, obviously itching to get moving somewhere.

Elle put her hand flat against her brow and squinted against the Sun, "Sutton seems to be doing fine with Monica. We should just go; she'll call us later and tell us how everything went."

They all spared a curious glance over at the two alphas—Sutton was currently attempting to show Monica how to do a cartwheel; but every time Monica tried to flip over, her Victoria's Secret underwear would peek out slightly from her skirt.

"She'll _definitely_ be fine," Cecilia giggled softly.

"I don't know, guys," Yumi was still looking cautiously at Sutton, "I have this feeling we should stay."

"All we would be is dead weight, Yumi," Elle checked her Coach watch, "Ehmagawd, it's only four! We can still go shopping for _at least _two hours!" her attention span was almost as short as a fish's…maybe even shorter.

"I have to go home for a minute," Cory was at least ten steps ahead of them already, "My money's all in my piggy bank—" as soon as she said the last words aloud, her face turned sheet-white.

"_Piggy bank?_" Elle started cracking up, grabbing at her tiny waist in hysterics, "What are you, six?"

Cory glared at her friend indignantly, "No, Piggers is—"

She stopped when Cecilia poked her in the arm softly, motioning over to Yumi. The dark-haired beta was still staring at Sutton with wide eyes, her lips crushed together, and her brow furrowed in thought.

"Come _awn_, guys!" Elle whined, "I need to go to Coach, Sephora, _and _New York & Co.! And we have, what, like fifteen minutes to get to the mall? Stop worrying about Sutton; she's an _alpha,_ she doesn't need us!"

Yumi quickly snapped out of her thoughts, "Yeah, let's go."

Anyone—except, apparently, her friends—could tell that her smile was awkward and forced, but Yumi walked toward the limo anyway; because that's what friends do for each other. They make each other happy and have fun together…

That _is _what friends are for, right?

::

The slope of Cory's plantation-styled house popped into view from the wide windows of the limo. All the girls ah-dored the pretty view; it reminded them of good times and peaceful relaxation together. And that was what today was going to be like.

Don't be so sure, girls.

"You guys can come stand in the foyer if you want, I just have to run upstairs for a minute," Cory's long legs were already outside the sleek, black door.

The girls all nodded and slipped out of the car along with their friend.

"It's so weird without Sutton," Cecilia stepped daintily into the lavender-scented entryway.

"I know…I feel bad; like we should be there with her." Yumi stood right below a huge window, and the sunlight streamed in, illuminating her dark complexion and bright streaks in her hair.

Cory quickly bounded up the stairs, taking two at a time like always.

Elle sighed, "Why are you guys so worried? Like I said, Sutton's _fine_! If it was one us, I wouldn't say that; but Sutton's clever, pretty, _and _knows how to get herself out of tough situations. And, like I _also_ said, we would only be standing there, staring at her. Would that help at all?"

"No, it's just it seems a little rude to go shopping without her—"

"Guys," Cory's voice broke their conversation, "Come with me." She didn't wait for them to respond, she just dashed quickly to the formal living room a few doors away from where they were standing, "_Shh," _she added as an afterthought.

"Why are we—?"

"_Shh_," she said it more forcefully this time, motioning for them to come closer.

Elle and Cecilia shared a puzzled glance, while Yumi jumped forward, eager for a new piece of gossip.

All the three girls tip-toed silently to the dark-wooded door, palms sweating; but when their eyes landed on what Cory was talking about, they could do nothing but stare like freakish stalkers.

There, in the plush, leather sofa, was Aaron. And next to him, lips pressed into his, body to body, was a girl with dark hair running down to her waist. The girl's back was to them, so they didn't know who it was; but it was most certainly _nawt _Monica.

Cecilia's phone buzzed with a sudden text and the girls silent-gasped and trotted away from the room; eyes still large, glossed mouths still hanging open.

Cecilia opened the text wordlessly, staring intensely at the screen:

**Oh hey, girls. Training Monica was fun, but I guess you wouldn't know that. Don't worry, **_**I'll **_**make sure we get into that party…no matter what. Hope my BFFs have **_**ah-lot **_**of fun without me. –Sutton**

"Ehmagawd," all the girls breathed in at the same time. Could this day get _any _worse?

Don't ask that question. Life has a way of toe-dally making you regret what you think.

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed it :) Next chap is up soon, don't worry! <strong>

**In your review that you're going to leave me *wink wink* I need you to tell me one thing you'd like to happen to your character in the story. Please just do this, it will help me a lot. Thanks!**


	10. Strike Two

**Hello! Okay, you know the usual...hope you enjoy, I love you all, and I'm sorry this chapter is short and jumbled. SHOUTOUT to "anon", a reviewer whose review literally made my day and helped me write this chapter. I'm so sorry for what you're going through :( But I'm glad I could make your day just a little better!**

**So, I got a review a few days ago saying that a lot of you had given up reading my story because I take too long to update. I hope that's not true! I honestly do try to update as much as I can. But I have other stories, and school, and homework, and volleyball...the list goes on and on! So I'm sorry if I take a long time, but I'd NEVER desert you guys. You just have to understand that I can't always update super fast. And if you read this whole rant/explaination...I love you :)**

**Again, sorry this chap is really...odd. But I'm planning on making the next one like BOOM, really dramatic! Oh, and I don't own anything. **

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><p>Sutton couldn't remember the last time she had ever felt abandoned.<p>

Well, there was one time, when she was seven, when her mom left her alone in Bloomie's for all of five point two seconds—those were the scariest five point two seconds of her life. But then her mom had come rushing back with tears in her eyes, apologizing like crazy; and Sutton had gotten a new dress _and _new sparkly shoes out of the whole deal…so, yeah, that didn't really count.

This was different. This was like someone was stabbing a Prada heel into her chest and twisting it around. It hurt that much. And nawt because she'd been forced to watch Monica fake-kick and fake-cheer for forty five minutes— it was because her friends had just _left._

Poof! Gone like body fat after a four-hour Zumba marathon. They were her support, her _anchor_. But they ahb-viously didn't see it the same way.

"Hey," a cold hand tapped her softly on the shoulder, "Are you okay?"

Sutton knew the voice…but that didn't make her feel any better, "Yeah," she stared at the bright green grass under her feet. It was swaying and moving along with the breeze, carefree and beautiful. _I wish I could be grass, then I wouldn't care about anything. _

_Ehmagawd, what am I saying? Snap out of it, Sut! These are your friends. They _need _you! _

"Are you sure?" Monica moved to stand in front of her, hands on her hips.

"Why are you being nice?" Sutton blurted out.

Monica looked offended…but then her face transformed into a smile; a real smile. Nawt a fake smile that she usually wore—but a genuine, beautiful curve that made Sutton realize why Monique tagged along beside her even she acted like a PMS spokesperson, "Because you're an alpha. Even though it may seem like I hate you, I don't. I could _neh_-ver hate someone so much like me."

Sutton pinched herself, expecting to wake up cocooned in her pearl-pink silk sheets, with her body comfortable in her goose-feather mattress. Why was Monica being so…nice?

"Friends are fickle. Remember that. Don't trust _anyone_."

Don't trust anyone…

But the girls were her best friends. They were _always _there for her. When she'd broken out in blackheads; the girls had been there with three bottles of Proactive and skin-cleansing aloe. When her fish died after seven years, the girls held a small funeral and even messed up their manicures to dig a tiny grave in Sutton's backyard. Why should this one time mean anything? It was just a misunderstanding.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Monica was trying to trick her! By tearing her and her friends apart, she would have the upper hand! She was manipulating their entire friendship! Sutton stood up straight and took in a huge breath. This was nawt going to happen.

"Monica, I think you should—" but she stopped abruptly when she realized that no one was behind her. The field was empty. And Sutton was left standing there; alone, in her new shoes.

_Could this get any worse?_

Remember what I said about life answering your questions…even if you'd rather not know the answers? Well, this is one of those moments.

It started to rain.

::

"Should we really keep something this big a secret from her?" Cecilia bit down on one already-ragged nail.

"For the _last _time, yes!" Elle licked her finger and creased the corner of her latest issue of _Vogue Italia. _"This will just add pressure, and does she need any more of that?"

"No…"

"Then the answer should be _ahb_-vious, girls! We need to keep this a secret. We'll try and unravel who the mystery girl is later! Right now; we need to focus on explaining ourselves to Sutton."

Elle spoke so confidently that Cecilia almost was convinced by her words…almost.

_What if she doesn't understand? Or worse…what if she finds out?_

"Cecilia," Yumi's gentle voice and vanilla-lavender scent instantly calmed Cecilia down, "Do you think Sutton is a monster or something? She's stubborn and a little harsh, yeah. But she cares about us. Trust me, everything will be alright."

"You're right," Cecilia offered a smile, "I'm just being overdramatic. Sutton is one of the most understanding people I know!" she tossed her curly hair over her shoulder and tuned into Elle's latest scheme.

"I have no other solution to this problem," she began in a fake-solemn voice, "The _only _thing to do…is tell the truth!"

The girls stare at each other; puzzled.

"It took you that long to think of that solution?" Cory asked.

"Well, yeah! It's not like—"

"_That _long? I could have thought of that in two seconds!" Yumi started to crack up. Her Lash Blast-mascara coated eyelashes running with tears.

"Yumi, you'll ruin your makeup!" Cecilia, ever the mother figure, scolded her.

"It's…just…too…funny!"

Cory and Elle shared a puzzled look, "I don't see what's so funny." Cory checked her pearl-white teeth in her compact mirror, "We should be _thinking_, nawt _joking around_, Yumi!"

"Sorry, sorry," Yumi took deep, Zen-inspired breaths, "I didn't mean to laugh; I just think it's so funny that we're _so _worried about Sutton. I mean, she's nawt that kind of—"

"Nawt that kind of what?" Sutton's clipped voice sliced through the air like her mother's new Wolfgang Puck kitchen knife.

"Person! Nawt that kind of person! You know, the kind that gets mad for no reason—"

"Thanks," Sutton cut across her smoothly, sitting on a leather bean-bag with a long sigh, "Why do you guys look like you just chugged a gallon of Starbucks?" she tied her hair into a loose ponytail and smirked, looking innocent.

The four girls shared nervous glances, "Um, Sutton—" Cecilia's voice could be mistaken for the squeak of an ah-noying little mouse.

"Don't worry, girls." The alpha stared each one of her betas straight in their perfectly lined eyes, "It was nuh-thing. I get it; you were bored and you wanted to leave. What do you think I am, _Hitler_?" she giggled, standing up and brushing off her jeans, "You know me better than that! And anyway, I saw right _through _Monica's little scheme."

"What scheme?" Yumi's voice was the loudest.

"Well, she's trying to break us apart. By, like, making me think that you guys were betraying me. She thought I'd get mad, and we'd break up. But her head is too clogged with deep-conditioner to realize that our friendship is tighter than Jen Aniston's backside. Right, girls?" with one last flip of her hair, Sutton declared the conversation _done, done, _and…

Wait, you guessed it, _done! _

_Wow_, Cecilia was literally speechless, _How can she go from making us feel horrible; to making us feel ah-mazing? She's…too good. Better than anyone I know. But she's sweet, too. _

_You're nawt off the hook, yet! _A little voice snarled in her mind, _She still doesn't know your little secret about the—ahem—mystery girl, now does she? _

"Ehmagawd," she gasped aloud.

Elle stopped and stared at her, "Hey, Cee, are you alright?"

Cecilia pushed the thoughts out of her head, "Y-Yeah, I'm fine. Just…tripped."

Elle giggled and put her arm around the smaller girl, "Be careful, we don't want you knocked out right before the big par_-tay_!"

Cecilia smiled shakily; but inside something gnawed at her—if Sutton found out, would the alpha take it upon herself to personally knock out each of her betas?

She didn't even want to think about it.

You know, _Cee_, denial isn't just a river in Egypt.

::

"But I look _fat_!"

"You look fine, Elle," Yumi groaned, pulling a silver sparkly mini skirt over her head.

"_Why _couldn't we have gone somewhere else, Sutton?" Cecilia shoved a leopard pair of jeans out of her face, "This place is way too _Nightmare on Elm Street _for me."

The girls were currently trying to find the perfect outfit to wear to Monica's party. But, as expected, thingsneh-ver go as planned with our girls.

"Do nawt compare this stylish French boutique to a _horror _show!" Sutton's voice was muffled by the huge pile of hanging clothes she was searching though.

"How about this?" Cory pranced out of the dressing room with something that resembled paper _after _the paper shredder draped over her body.

Yumi snorted, "You look like Elle took a pair of scissors to your…um…dress?"

"Is it even considered a dress?" Elle whispered back.

"Unless you're going as the entertainment to her party, I would _nawt _suggest wearing that…thing." Sutton went back to digging furiously through the forest of clothes.

Cory gazed at herself into the mirror. Her eyes were wider and bluer than usual, contrasting perfectly against her still-tan-from-soccer-practice skin, "I thought it looked okay." She mumbled.

"You look gorgeous, Cory," Elle assured her friend, "But, under the circumstances, I think we should wear something a little more…classic. Right?" she whisper-hissed the last word at Yumi and Cecilia.

"Oh, duh!" Yumi yelled, just as Cecilia shouted, "_Ah-mazing_!"

Sutton snapped around, dropping a nude tube-dress in the process, "What are you guys shouting about—?" suddenly, her eyes grew round and she straightened into a ramrod.

"Monica," she hissed through a fake smile.

The girls didn't have to turn around to know that the eight-grade alpha was behind them.

"Hey, _chicas_!" her smooth voice was unmistakable, "Didn't expect to see you guys here at the mall on this _lovely _evening."

Sutton allowed herself a small half-smile, "We're here shopping for your party. Even though your nawt as cool as you think; I still want to look _good _for all the eighth grade boys who might be there."

Monica giggled, "You're so funny, Sutton!" after another burst of laughter, she reached into her Fendi clutch and pulled out five laminated VIP tickets, "_These _babies are for you." She held them out in the air.

"Ehmagawd, thanks!" Sutton reached up to grab them, but Monica snatched them away.

"Nawt yet." Her tone was menacing now, "Remember, _girls_, I still need a date. These," she waved the tickets around, "Aren't permanent."

It's obvious what she did after that—she strutted away with an air of smugness around her. But what _wasn't _normal was the smirk Monique gave Yumi when she thought no one was looking. But, of course, someone saw.

Someone always sees.

"How could she!" Elle stomped on a pair of red heels, "That…bit—"

"Elle, stop," Sutton commanded firmly, "She wants to get under our skin, that's all. Just ignore her. We'll get Aaron, and we'll get into that party. We're _fine_."

"But—"

"Hey, Cory," the alpha turned slyly to her beta, ignoring Elle, "How are Xavier and his friends doing?"

Yumi gasped, "Ehmagawd, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Sutton shrugged, "He's Cory's brother. We'll _have _to see him and his friends sooner or later, right?" but she winked, and _everyone _knew what that meant.

::

Yumi dragged herself across the plush floor rug to her canopy bed, feeling worn. Today had been an exciting day…and that was an understatement. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep.

_Ping!_

…after she checked her IM.

The dark-haired girl sighed and opened the little icon; but the sender's name was just a jumble of letters and numbers.

But when she read what the IM said inside, her cheeks went hot—and her fingers went cold.

_**Remember, Yumi, no lady ever kisses and tells…**_

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><p><em><em>**This is re-uploaded from last night because I messed up on somehting, but hopefully only shadowgirl1029 will know! But anyway, I'd like some feedback from you guys: In your review tell me if you'd be interested in reading a sequel. Like, maybe a summer vacation setting? Just give me some of your thoughts on that. **

**I'll update ASAP. Oh, and you guys are ah-mazing!**


	11. Who's Whose Clique?

**It seems like I always end up with writer's block. Hopefully summer will cure that! Honestly, I feel bad for even posting this as a full chapter. But since I'm going to camp for a week, I figured I'd update now. For all of you who have waited patiently, thank you SO much!**_  
><em>

**Enjoy.**

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><p><em>They're hiding something.<em>

_NO, Sutton, stop being paranoid! They'd neh-ver hide something from you. Stop worrying. _

"Ehmagawd, this is so frustrating!" the alpha tipped back in her custom leather-soft computer chair. She turned to Sophie and pouted, "Why can't everything go smoothly?" she scooped the little dog into her lap, patting her soft fur, "I'm not sure what, but something's off with their attitudes; it's like they're suddenly afraid of me."

Sophie yipped and licked her wrist with her tiny pink tongue, as if to say, "I trust you, Mom!"

"Thanks, baby." Sutton cooed, setting her back onto the bed. "But I'm over it. I'm an alpha, and I don't need to doubt them. Simple as that."

She walked over to her full-length mirror; studying herself. The alpha was wearing a wear of boy sleep-shorts that said, "You're Lucky Today" in green, sparkly letters across the butt; a loose tank-top hugged her small frame. Of course, the entire outfit was _nerdy _with a capital _N_, but she was alone…so it didn't matter—right?

"Sutton, dear," her mother's calm voice came from downstairs, "Your friend is here to see you!"

_Ugh, right now? When I'm dressed like a hooker? And when I'm studying? And when my mom just got done with her latest Zumb-a-thon? _

Oh, God! Her mom was probably decked out in tight exercise pants and coated in sweat, "Coming!" she called, throwing on Cheer sweatpants and a black V-neck.

When she reached the French doors at the front of her house, she immediately saw Yumi's dark hair slicked back into a bun. She must have just come from her dance practice. Then again, when wasn't she coming from dance practice? The girl practically lived in her custom-made ballet flats.

"Hey!" Sutton relaxed; Yumi was one of the only people who could see her like this.

"Can I get you anything to eat?" Sutton's mother asked sweetly, "How about some fro-yo? Or hummus with pita bread? Maybe a whole-grain—"

"_Mother_," Sutton hissed, "Stop being so pushy."

Mrs. Minchew giggled, "Oops, I guess I am being pushy! Silly me." She turned and walked slowly out of the room.

Sutton stared at her mother's back until it disappeared into her parents' bedroom, "Gawd, she's such an airhead!" she glanced at her beta; expecting her to laugh or join in on the joke—but all she did was twirl her thumbs and bounce rhythmically on the soles of her feet.

_Okay, this is too _Twilight Zone _for me. Something weird is going on; I know it._

"Tell me what's going on." Sutton deadpanned.

Yumi looked like she'd just gotten poked with a needle, "What? Why?" she stood awkwardly; not looking Sutton in the eye.

"Because you're acting like I might kill you in your sleep." Sutton offered a small smile, but Yumi didn't seem to notice.

"I…it's nothing, okay. I'm just nervous because Monica's party is coming up, and you're stressed, and we're stressed, and…and—" she seemed ready to spill the huh-yuge secret she'd been keeping, "And I feel like we're drifting apart!"

_So that's what it is! _Sutton felt a light bulb go off in her head. Yumi was just nervous because she thought she was losing friends. That the stress was getting to all of them.

_Whew, good excuse. Maybe I'm off the hook for now._ Yumi congratulated herself on an ah-mazing fake-breakdown. It was even enough to fool Sutton!

"Yumi," Sutton began in a motherly tone, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, "I know things seem tough. But we'll be fine. Cecilia, Cory, and Elle aren't going anywhere; and neither am I. You don't have to be nervous—that's my job: To take care of you guys."

_Ehmagawd, I'm going straight to Hell! _Yumi felt herself beginning to feel sick. How could she stand here, lying to her best friend, and still the alpha was standing beside her—like an older sister.

"Thanks…" the dark-haired girl meant it from the bottom of her heart, but she felt like a demon trapped in a pretty girl's freshly waxed body. _I have to tell her. I might die of anxiety if I don't. _

"Sutton, I need—"

The alpha's phone started to vibrate from her back pocket; with freshly-manicured nails, she reached back and pulled it out in one smooth motion, "Hello?" her tone was business-like.

Yumi could only make out little mumbles of conversation, but Sutton occasionally would nod and murmur "yes" and "okay". Whoever was calling, they were important enough to actually listen to.

"Okay, bye," Sutton finally said, her eyes glowing excitedly.

"Who was it?" Yumi tried to sound indifferent, but she really was curious.

"Monica."

The beta gasped, "And you _talked _to her?"

Sutton nodded, "Of course. She's an alpha—even if she is half-evil."

"But I thought you didn't like her!" Yumi sounded like an ah-noying nasally three-year-old; but she was too shocked to care. _Since when did they become friends?_

"Sorry, Yum, but I have to go." Sutton stepped into a pair of dark-wash jeans—a _must have _when you're in a hurry—and decided to leave the V-neck on. She pulled on red ballet flats and let her hair stay the way it was. She mentally named the look _Casual Chic. _

Yumi looked like she'd just been run over by a truck, "But…I came here to tell you something important."

"Tell me later, then! Monica said she wants me at her house in a half an hour; and I can't just deny her, can I?" her voice was clipped because she was applying a touch-up shade of blush to her already-flushed-with-anticipation cheeks.

Yumi felt her heart sink to her toes, "Oh,"

"Thanks for understanding, love!"

_Since when does Sutton say things like 'love'? It's probably one of Monica's habits that she picked up on. _

"Just one question," Yumi followed her friend to the entrance of her house, "When did Monica become more important than your friends?"

"She's _nawt_!" Sutton cried, reaching for the door handle with clammy fingers, "I _have _to go to her house. I'm like our diplomat. And if diplomacy doesn't work, what comes next?"

"War." Yumi saw where she was going.

"And do we really want to fight a war with someone like Monica?"

"No…"

Sutton went in to finish her point, "Until we become allies," she added another war term just for good effect, "Monica comes first—it doesn't matter if I like it or not."

They both walked out and felt the cool breeze tickle their hair around their chins, "See you later!" Sutton called for her driver, and Yumi was left to try and get a hold of her own family chauffer.

Even thought Sutton had explained her well-thought plan of attack, Yumi, who stood on her best friend's lawn with her phone in hand, thought that the alpha was a _little _too happy for someone being "forced" to be friends with another.

::

"So she just left?" Cecilia, as she often did while thinking, twirled a piece of hair around her finger.

Yumi sighed, "Would I lie to you? Yes, she just got up and went to Monica's without sparing me a second glance."

"Isn't she trying to get on Monica's good side?" Elle said through bites of something crunchy. Everyone winced and tried to ignore the crackling in their ears.

"Something like that. But I don't understand…it was like, she almost seemed _happy _about going," Yumi felt odd voicing that out loud.

Cory's soothing tone was the next to speak, "We're overreacting. This whole thing is getting to us. Let her do what she wants, and I'm sure once this whole party thing is all over, she'll be back to normal."

Everyone clung to Cory's words of assurance; that was the only thing they had to keep their heads up. Sutton was doing this all for them—because she was dedicated and loved them like sisters.

"Stop acting like she's our mother! We don't _always _have to be around her. We can have fun by ourselves!" Elle was done with her snack, and sounded ready to do something fun.

"Let's meet at your house, then!" Cecilia giggled, "We'll find something to do."

The girls smiled; maybe they didn't need to command them, after all.

::

Sutton walked up to Monica's three-story mansion, feeling anxious and happy at the same time. Why did Monica invite her over? Did she do something right? Or something wrong…?

Before she could stress herself any farther, the door opened and she was face-to-face with the girl who held Sutton's popularity in her small, tan hands.

"Hey, Sutton," Monica's expression was neutral, and she stared at Sutton like she was assessing her entire being.

"Why did you want me to come over?" Sutton kept her own voice calm and cool.

Monica sighed, holding her arm out to Sutton like an older sister, "I have to tell you something you're nawt going to like—about your friends."

* * *

><p><strong>I wonder what will happen next...?<strong>

**Leave feedback, and again, sorry for my hiatus! **


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